Tale of Years: 1935
by Jessica314
Summary: In 1935, The Cullen family grows again when Rosalie finds Emmett McCarty near death and rescues him. Can be read alone, or as the fifth installment in the Tale of Years series. Canon-friendly Twilight Prequel, Edward POV.
1. Family

**A/N: This story is part of a series called Tale of Years, which is a collection of 100% Canon-Friendly prequels to Twilight (or rather, Midnight Sun, since they're all in Edward's POV). You don't need to read them all in order, but they will read better that way.**

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga and its universe. No profit is made here and no offense intended.**

* * *

**Chapter One - Family**

"…and remember, even if it looks like a long stretch of cloud cover, cloud formations can change. Keep checking every couple of minutes."

"I know, Edward."

"And if someone cuts themselves accidentally, don't inhale before you hold your breath. Exhale first."

"I _know_, Edward."

"And if that doesn't work, just run out. Now, I have a few excuses that have worked in the past, and-"

"Edward Cullen!" Rosalie hissed. "I'm two years old, and I've done this before! I am perfectly capable of making it through a school day without you breathing down my neck. Now back off!"

I pursed my lips, holding back the ungentlemanly insult that came to mind. The day promised to be nice and rainy, but I was still concerned. Up until now, I had always been able to keep a watchful eye on my new sister. We had spent the last two years attending Athens High School, and I had always managed to be in most of the same classes as Rosalie. I had always driven her to school and driven her home. I had always sat with her at lunch. I had always been the one keeping an eye on the thoughts around us, and on the weather. And when the human boys drooled over her, which they always did, I had always been there to scare them off. She had never once gone to school without her overprotective brother- a role which I had naturally taken to.

But today we were beginning a new chapter in our lives. Rosalie and I were driving to our first day of classes at the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga campus. She had whined and pleaded with Carlisle for weeks, and he had finally agreed that she could choose a different major from me. I was starting over as Biology major, with the pre-med emphasis like before. And this time, I was beginning to hope I might actually be able to attend medical school, or at least graduate college for the first time. I might have done so in our last location, but having Rosalie join our family had made it necessary for us to move and start over again in a new home. And everything had gone well... so far.

But Rosalie was sick of me hovering over her all day long, and she had finally gotten her wish. Her major was Mechanical Engineering, which meant that we would hardly have any classes together- in fact, we probably wouldn't even be in the same building most of the time. We would only have one class in common today: English Literature at one o'clock. I had almost opened my big mouth about having shared that class before with Royce King, but I had stopped myself just in time. Nobody wanted to bring _that_ up. And besides, Rosalie would have transferred out of the class just to spite me.

I parked the car and we got out, heading towards the academic buildings. As we walked, I began scanning the thoughts of the students and professors as we passed by them. As I had expected, most of them were male, and most of them were staring at Rosalie and her new dress.

She had picked it out months ago, and had waited to wear it until her first day at college. Esme had insisted that she dress modestly, and they had finally agreed upon a dark blue day dress with sleeves and a double collar. The neckline was quite high, but the dress itself was cut in the silhouette style that was so popular these days. I frowned at the thoughts rising from our fellow students.

"Did you really have to wear that dress?" I growled under my breath.

"Why? What are they thinking?" she whispered back, stepping further away from me. I hated it when she did this. She liked to pretend that she didn't even know me, which increased her appeal in the eyes of our classmates; a girl whose brother was always hovering didn't get as much attention. I sidestepped back to her and gave her a playful, brotherly shove, making sure that some of the young men were watching. It looked like I had my work cut out for me in my role as the overprotective big brother. Did she have to make it so _difficult_, though? It's not like she ever let the boys get too close – the harmless flirtation stage was her favorite, anyway. She knew that she could never actually get involved with any of the humans, but that didn't stop her from playing the game.

"I'm sure you can figure it out," I muttered back to her.

"I suppose you would have preferred me to wear slacks," she sniffed.

"Don't be absurd. Come on, there's your building up there."

At least she was letting me walk her to the Engineering building. As we approached the entrance, a middle-aged man with unkempt hair converged on the door alongside us.

_There she is. _"Ah, Miss Cullen, I presume? I'm Dr. Preston, chair of the Engineering Department. It's quite a pleasure to meet our first female Engineering major." He shook her hand vigorously, and I sighed in relief. His thoughts were quite benign; although he found her attractive, he was mostly looking forward to learning how a woman had ended up in his department. He was also assuming that her cold hands meant she was nervous. I was impressed to see that he expected her to be of above average intelligence, and was eager to see if she would end up being the star student. He wouldn't be disappointed.

Rosalie favored him with her most winning smile. "Thank you, Dr. Preston. It's a pleasure to meet you, as well. Will you be teaching the eight o'clock lecture?"

"Yes, yes. Please, allow me." He opened the door for her, and Rosalie glanced back at me briefly, mentally bidding me farewell until one o'clock. I nodded to her and continued on to my own building.

My first class was Biology I, which I had now taken four times between the University of Rochester and my various high schools. I slipped into a seat near the back of the auditorium, just as the professor walked in and began droning. I halfheartedly checked the minds around me for any sign of danger, and then combed through mental cacophony on campus until I found Rosalie's mind again.

Her lecture had also just begun, and she was taking notes at a sufficiently human speed. At least she had taken my advice one this one point: I had warned her not to study ahead, so that the class would be more enjoyable. Boredom was always the bane of our existence, due to our expanded intelligence and our tendency to repeat classes. Anything that alleviated that boredom was a good idea.

Everyone in my class turned the first page in their syllabus, so I turned mine as well, keeping my attention on Rosalie. It wasn't that I didn't _trust_ her, exactly. But it didn't hurt to be cautious, and I would be a fool _not_ to use my mind-reading to keep tabs on my sister on her first day. I was proud that she was remembering to write slowly, and that she wasn't raising her hand too often. She was, unfortunately, attracting the attention of her classmates already. They couldn't be expected to ignore the only girl in the room, after all. I noted with annoyance that she had chosen to sit in the front of the auditorium, instead of the back. I focused my gift several feet behind her, grazing the minds of the other students. It seemed half of them were already in love with her; nothing new there. I checked anxiously through her entire lecture hall, looking for more unsavory minds. It wasn't that she couldn't defend herself, of course. Human men were no longer a danger to her. But there were situations – much like the one that had caused the end of her human life- which would inevitably lead to Rosalie revealing too much about her abilities. And that _was_ a danger.

Satisfied that there were no threats in Rosalie's class, I turned my attention back to my own- briefly. After a few seconds of tedium, I mentally roamed the rest of the building, focusing in on a junior-level genetics class upstairs. Ah, that was better. I picked up my pencil and started taking notes from the Biology lecture, leaving my mind happily upstairs.

.

.

.

At 12:58, I slid into the seat beside Rosalie in our English class. "So, sis, how's it going so far?" I asked politely, at human volume. There were already several students sitting around us.

"Fine, thanks." _Don't call me that. And don't pretend you weren't watching me the whole morning._

I frowned innocently. "Me?" I said under my breath. "I just checked occasionally. I gave you some privacy- honest." It was true. I had only been watching her a mere 47% of the time. I was rather proud of my self-control.

Her eyes narrowed. _I'm sure._ "I love the Engineering classes so far," she continued aloud. "What about you? What do you think of Biology?" _This is what, the third time?_

"Fourth," I muttered as the professor walked in. I sighed in consternation when I saw _Romeo and Juliet_ under his arm. Not _again_.

"Good morning, students. My name is Dr. Walker, and this is English Literature 101. We'll begin our semester with a little bit of Shakespeare…"

I tuned him out, focusing on my sister's mind as it wandered as well. Rosalie wasn't in the happy mood I was expecting her to be in on her first day. In fact, she seemed to have deflated quite a bit since we had parted ways earlier this morning. She was remembering bits of the lectures she had sat through this morning; that didn't seem to be the problem. She truly seemed to have enjoyed the learning material.

At that moment, I heard rushed footsteps coming our way down the hall. Another classmate was about to join us, and she was hurrying because she knew she was late. I frowned at her thoughts.

_I think I got the bleeding stopped. Of course I would get a huge paper cut on my first day..._

"Blood in four seconds," I whispered quickly. Rosalie and I both inhaled deeply and brought our hands up to our faces, assuming a posture that made us appear bored, but which enabled us to block our noses. The girl entered the room and scurried to take the seat right in front us. The paper cut wasn't bad, and it was almost done bleeding. However, she was still fiddling with the blood-stained handkerchief, filling the room with a sweet aroma. Why did she have to sit right _there_?

I peeked over at Rosalie. Her eyes were darkening slightly, but she was fine. My sister had the best control in the family, excluding Carlisle, of course. He was proud of his daughter, and I was too… though I was also a little jealous. My control still wasn't back to where it had been before my 'rebellious years', as I now called them. I winced at the pain in my throat, envious of the lesser pain that my sister was experiencing. Over the next few minutes the burn slowly receded as the girls' cut sealed off, and as the dots of blood on her tissue dried up.

"Excuse me, Mr.….?" I looked up, finding the professor standing in front of my desk. This was a much smaller class than I liked to be in.

"Cullen," I said, moving my hand away from my face and expelling part of the breath I had taken before the girl entered the room.

"Mr. Cullen. Are you quite all right? You don't look well."

"I'm fine, thank you, sir." He moved on. I was relieved I wouldn't need to inhale again.

_He's right, Edward. You look awful. _Rosalie was looking at me with sympathy- quite a rare thing, coming from her. I looked at myself in the mirror of her mind; she was right. My eyes weren't lightening like they should, now that the girl's blood had already dried. And I didn't exactly have dark circles under my eyes yet, but I looked exhausted. _You should go hunting tonight._

I shook my head, pointing to my eyes. I had already explained to Rosalie the importance of not hunting during the first week of school. We had purposely had our last hunt well over a week ago, in order for our eyes to darken about halfway to black. This way, the first impression we made on our new classmates and professors would have a more human appearance, than it would if our eyes were completely golden. I wanted to get through the whole first week- we would be exposed to all the new humans at least twice by then- with this brownish color. After everyone had met us a couple times, they would be much less likely to be disturbed by, or even notice, our strange eye color.

_Suit yourself. Masochist. _Rosalie's mind began to wander again, thinking back to some of the conversations she had overhead in her Engineering class this morning. Two boys in the back had been whispering about her. At first they had been commenting on her beauty, and then they had been speculating as to why a girl would want to go to college at all.

"Especially when she looks like _that_," one of them had said admiringly. "Wonder how many diamond rings she's turned down by now?"

"Maybe that's why she's here," his fellow had commented. "Maybe she doesn't want to get married."

"Maybe not. Or maybe she can't have babies or something. Still, I might see if she'd like to go out on Friday night."

By the way that Rosalie kept repeating the last line of conversation in her head, I could tell that this was what had been bothering her. Not the part about the one boy wanting to ask her to out- the part about not wanting to be married, and especially the part about not being able to have children. I knew it was a sore spot for her, and I was careful not to respond to her thought. She would hate it if she knew I had overheard that.

.

.

.

After we parted ways, the rest of the day continued without incident. I met Rosalie back at the car, frowning when I saw her expression.

"I'm fine," she muttered as she got in and yanked the door out of my hands. _I don't want to talk about it._

We drove in silence, Rosalie furiously concentrating on the material she had learned at school today. As soon as we got home, she zipped out of the car, calling for Esme. Our mother appeared at the front door, her expectant smile fading when she saw Rosalie's face.

"I need to talk to you," Rosalie muttered as she headed for the woods. Esme glanced over to me, and I just shrugged. She knew I wouldn't share anything that wasn't my business to share. So she just ran into the woods, as well.

_Edward, I left some cookies in the oven. Would you take them out in four minutes?_ Esme thought as she ran.

I entered the house, alone, wrinkling my nose at the odor coming from the kitchen. I was sure I was the only vampire in the world who came home to his "mother" baking cookies. She had joked about it this morning; how normal mothers like to have fresh cookies waiting for their children after their first day of school. It looked like the joke was going a bit far, but I knew how much she liked to pretend. And she would no doubt be taking them to some homeless shelter later on, or send them into work with Carlisle. I smiled, holding my nose for the rest of the four minutes as I waited.

After I had gotten the cookies onto their cooling racks, I headed outside to get away from the smell. Carlisle was splitting wood out in the backyard. He waved to me when I came out.

"You look like a lumberjack," I said, nodding toward his flannel shirt.

He grinned, making a show of wiping the "sweat" off of his brow. "We haven't had a nice fire in awhile. And seeing your mother in there with her apron, making cookies, well… I thought I'd do something human myself."

He wasn't fooling me. "Smell drove you outside too, then?" He nodded, laughing. But his smile quickly faded. "So, what's Rosalie upset about today?" he asked quietly, nodding toward the woods.

I just shrugged again, like I had when Esme had asked. When Rosalie had been a newborn, I was more willing to share her tumultuous thoughts with our parents. But now that she had herself well under control, I really had no business doing so. I knew how much she hated her lack of privacy, and keeping her secrets was the least I could do.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. Well, I'm sure Esme will have some words of wisdom for her. So, how was your first day?"

"Dull," I said honestly. "But I found some other classes to listen in on. Did you know they've developed a vaccine for yellow fever?"

Carlisle's eyes lit up. "No, I didn't. Tell me everything about it."

I sat down on the grass while my father continued chopping the wood, chattering about everything I had learned in my own classes, as well as the twelve others I had listened in on. After a while, Esme and Rosalie returned. Rosalie finally nodded in greeting to Carlisle, who gave her a concerned smile, and then she entered the garage; we wouldn't be seeing her for the rest of the day.

_I wish I could be of more help_, Esme was fretting as she watched her daughter. _I think about it, too. But I have two beautiful children now, and such a wonderful husband. How can I say that I understand?_

We had these problems with Rosalie more and more often, it seemed. She had adjusted well to her new life, but after two years, she was still mourning the loss of her human future in a way that none of us ever had. And since vampires rarely "get over" things, it was a distinct possibility that we would be dealing with this dynamic for the rest of eternity. We tried to get out of the house as often as could, in order to satisfy Rosalie's social appetite. But no matter how much we went out, she was always dwelling on what she had lost. She was often thinking about her friend, Vera, and the baby boy that had taken on an angelic role in Rosalie's mind. She envied everything about Vera's life: her humanity, her husband, and her baby. Rosalie often wondered what the baby would look like now, and if Vera had been able to have another child. I thought she genuinely missed her friend, sometimes. But usually Vera's life merely served as the shining, impossible dream that Rosalie would never have. On her most bitter days, it was the life that Carlisle had stolen from her. This was utter nonsense, of course, and Rosalie knew it. She would have died if Carlisle hadn't come along. But she needed someone to blame, and though it had been a while since she had accused him out loud, Carlisle was keenly aware of her bitterness towards him. They loved each other as father and daughter, but there was a strain between them that he and I had never experienced.

I glanced over at my father now. Carlisle was totally confused, and uncomfortable with approaching Rosalie himself; he was hoping Esme would confide in him later today. He was disappointed with how Rosalie was reacted to her first day, and, as usual, feeling guilty that he had changed her at all.

Esme was remembering the baby that she had lost, and wishing that Rosalie could find some joy. Her daughter had warmed up to her in the last two years, and she had Rosalie's confidence. But Esme was also wishing- as she often did during times like this- that Rosalie and I would put our differences aside and fall in love. _Oh! I'm sorry, Edward. Never mind._ She quickly switched over to thinking about her plans tonight; she was taking the cookies to a food bank.

Rosalie was reliving the conversation she had overheard, yet again. It appeared that sometime after our English class, she had overheard another one which had bothered her: a nursing student bubbling over with the news that she and her husband were expecting a baby. As if on cue, Vera and her baby appeared in her mind, surrounded by an aura worthy of the Madonna and Child. _It's not fair_, Rosalie thought as she turned her wrench a little too hard, warping the bolt she was tightening on the frame of Carlisle's car. _That should have been me. It was going to be me._

I rolled my eyes. Rosalie had learned the hard way what kind of man her fiancée had been. How could she possibly think that she would be happy if that future had panned out? She would only have repeated Esme's fate. And I simply didn't understand my sister's obsession with babies. What did it matter if she couldn't produce a tiny, squirming human?

I did understand her longing for a mate, however. I had been feeling a bit sorry for myself, before Rosalie had come along. I had wondered if I would ever find the kind of love that my parents had. And then Rosalie and her tragic story had come along, reminding me how very rare real love was. It made me all the more determined to never settle for less. Which, of course, would make it all the more impossible to ever happen.

It was ironic, really. Both of my parents saw Rosalie and me as the two most "eligible" vampires in the world, and the two most beautiful. But it was quite likely that we would live together in the same coven forever, never finding love. We certainly weren't going to find it in each _other_; even Esme realized now that it was never going to happen. But, for better or for worse, I loved my sister, and we both loved our parents. If I had to be stranded in eternal bachelorhood forever, I wouldn't want to be stranded with any family other than this one.


	2. Date

The rest of the week passed more smoothly- for my sister, at least. Rosalie was basking in the admiration of her classmates, and had already turned down six of them. The boys here at college were a bit more daring than those back in high school, and Rosalie was pleasantly surprised at how quickly they were approaching her.

_My _week hadn't gone smoothly. I felt obliged to watch Rosalie even more closely, now that I saw how forward her classmates were being. She was attracting more attention than I had hoped for, and I had even gotten reprimanded by one of my professors on Wednesday for "daydreaming" in class. I supposed that I was being unnecessarily protective, but I couldn't help it. I only hoped that Rosalie's parade of hopeful suitors would die down after awhile.

I had my own admirers, of course. There were a few girls in my English class, and even more in my Physiology class, which the Biology majors shared with the Nursing students on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I employed my usual charade of cool politeness, and it kept my pursuers at bay, for the most part. There were a couple of girls that were more persistent; if they didn't back off soon, I was going to have to turn on the rudeness. I hated having to do that, but between my own classes, the classes that I chose to listen in on, and watching my sister, I had no time for their silly games.

On Friday morning, the boy in Rosalie's eight o'clock Engineering class finally worked up his nerve. George was the most benign of Rosalie's admirers; he was genuinely interested in getting to know her, unlike the other boys she had turned down so far. I sat in Biology, watching through Rosalie's eyes as he sat down next to her.

"Good morning, Miss Cullen," he said shyly as he laid his books on his desk.

Rosalie nodded, and I rolled my eyes as she gave him a tiny smile. _At least this one is good-looking. _"Good morning, George. Please, call me Rosalie."

"All right, Miss… all right, Rosalie. So, are you ready for the quiz today?"

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be too hard. This class is easier than I expected."

_Really? She must be smarter than me, then._ "I think so, too. Um…"

Rosalie broke into a grin. _Seven in one week_, she thought smugly. _Maybe college isn't so bad after all._

George tugged at his collar nervously. "So, I was wondering… if you didn't have any other plans tonight, if maybe we could… I don't know, go out to dinner. You know, to celebrate acing our first quiz." _Idiot. Nobody goes out to celebrate a quiz. An exam, maybe…_

Rosalie sighed dramatically. "Oh, that would be lovely… but I'm afraid I have plans already."

"Oh, I understand," he said quickly. "Perhaps lunch today, then? We could meet at the cafeteria… if you're free at twelve, that is…"

Rosalie paused, just for a moment. "Yes, let's," she said encouragingly. I frowned and sat up taller in my seat. What was she doing?

_Yes! _"Great!" George said in a clearer voice. "I'll see you there. Why don't you wait for me outside the entrance? I'll get your lunch as well."

"All right." He turned around with a stupid grin on his face; the lecture was beginning. Rosalie picked up her pencil as well, doodling on her notebook; her mind was practically purring.

I anxiously watched her mind for the rest of the morning, rushing at human speed to meet her after my eleven o'clock class ended.

I found her just entering the campus cafeteria, and I grabbed her arm as I came up behind her. "What do you think you're doing?" I hissed.

"I'm going to lunch. What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked indignantly. She glanced past me; George was approaching already.

I leaned in closer to speak in her ear. "In case you've forgotten, we don't _eat_." One of the advantages to being at college was that we didn't have to pretend to eat anymore; nobody noticed if we didn't show up for lunch, since everyone's schedule was different.

"Edward, for once, could you please leave me alone?" She twisted her arm, breaking my grasp. _Is it so bad that I want to have lunch with one of my classmates? You know I won't let it go anywhere._

"This is a bad idea," I growled as George walked up to us, frowning at me.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, lowering his voice in an attempt to sound brave.

"No, my _brother _was just leaving," Rosalie said through her teeth. _Get lost._

George relaxed visibly. I turned to him and crossed my arms, giving him a silent, menacing stare. _Good thing he's her brother; I wouldn't want to have THAT for competition. _"Well, let's go," he said to Rosalie, brushing past me. I followed them in and stood right behind them in the line, much to Rosalie's annoyance. George handed her a tray and gestured for her to step in front of him. The three of us passed silently, loading our trays with the awful-smelling food. I wondered if it smelled any better to George; it seemed a little nicer than the fare at the high school, but I wasn't really the best judge of that.

As soon as George had paid for their food, Rosalie quickly walked over to a tiny table with two chairs. _If you're going to be annoying, at least be annoying across the room._ I frowned at her and went to sit alone at a similar table, about fifty feet away.

Rosalie picked up her fork and starting poking at her food, chattering away with George about the quiz. It was obvious he had found it difficult, but was trying to hide that fact from Rosalie.

"He only got seventy percent of them right," I muttered, knowing she could hear me.

Rosalie ignored me; in fact, my interference seemed to be egging her on. She combed a delicate hand through her hair, smiling to herself when George's heart rate sped up. She folded her hands under her chin and leaned forward. "Oh, well, enough about Engineering. Tell me about yourself, George. Where are you from?"

My fork clattered on the table in frustration. This was getting _ridiculous_.

George gladly talked about himself for most of the lunch hour, occasionally asking Rosalie questions about her own life, which she answered smoothly. She took special pleasure in pointing out that I was actually a year older than her, but had been held back while I was in foster care. "It's not that Edward isn't intelligent," she said cheerfully. "It's just that he was a little immature back then. He cried all the time; you know how it is with those foster kids."

George snuck a glance over at me. "He's not your real brother?" he asked worriedly.

"Well, he is now. Carlisle and Esme adopted both of us eventually. But _I _was never in foster care. My father was a brain surgeon up in Pennsylvania; he and Dr. Cullen were close friends. So when my parents died in the accident, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen adopted me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea. Do you miss your parents?" George asked. _And why isn't she eating anything? Maybe she's nervous, too._

She shrugged. "Not really. I was only three when it happened. But tell me more about _your_ family."

I stood up abruptly, carrying my still-full tray past them on my way to the trashcan. I purposely bumped into Rosalie on my way. "Stop messing around," I growled under my breath.

"I take it back," Rosalie said loudly to George. "He's _still_ immature." George smirked up at me, encouraged by our banter.

"It's too bad you have plans tonight," he said wistfully.

"Well, I suppose I could reschedule them. It was only a family thing, anyway. Maybe we could-"

My glass shattered in my hand, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. I quickly stuck my finger in my mouth, wincing at my "cut". After a moment, the conversations around us resumed, and I headed back to Rosalie's table, pushing my way through the crowd.

George was leaning forward conspiratorially, speaking quickly before I could reach the table. "Really? That's great! Could I pick you up at six?"

Rosalie hesitated just briefly. "That sounds lovely." She reached over and scribbled our address on George's napkin.

I finally reached them. "Let's go," I said sternly. "We don't want to be late for English." I picked up her tray, quickly sweeping up George's napkin onto it when he wasn't looking.

_I'll see you tonight_, Rosalie mouthed to him as I pulled her anxiously away. He just grinned, reaching down for his napkin. He frowned when he realized it was gone.

My smug smile disappeared when I heard his next thought; he didn't need the napkin. He had already memorized our address.

.

.

.

We got to English with two minutes to spare. As soon as we sat down, I turned to my sister angrily. "That was idiotic, you know, even for you. He noticed that you weren't eating. And I can't believe you gave him our _address!_"

"What was I supposed to do?" she hissed back. "Tell him I'd run over to his house?"

"You're not going anywhere! You are going to cancel the whole thing when you see him later."

"No, I'm not. And besides, I don't have any more classes with him today. And it's not like we really had plans tonight."

"Rosalie, if you don't cancel it, I'm going to tell Carlisle."

Now _she_ was getting angry. "Go ahead! He'll probably tell you to mind your own business."

I snorted. "I doubt _that_."

She leaned in closer, talking at vampire speed; the professor was entering the room. "Just because _you_ don't want any friends, doesn't mean that I don't. I just want someone to talk to."

"Why can't you talk to a girl?"

"You know there aren't any other girls in my major. I'll just go on this one date, and that'll be it. And you had _better_ not follow me."

"I'm not following you, because you're not _going_," I whispered back. The professor began her lecture, and we turned our eyes to the front of the room. Rosalie focused intently on the lesson, but she shot me one last thought before blocking me out.

_I just want to be normal, Edward. Can't you understand that?_

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.

.

We drove home in silence. Rosalie was still blocking me out, and I wondered what I should do. Should I follow through on my threat to get our parents involved? Rosalie w_as _being foolish- her giving our address to a total stranger was evidence of that. And if she thought I was going to let her go out tonight without me following her, she was sadly mistaken.

It wasn't that I didn't understand her loneliness. Did she think I _enjoyed_ being a social outcast? It would take so little effort to charm my classmates; I could have had a dozen friends by now. And I knew I could have my pick of the female students, if I chose. But I wasn't an idiot. Remaining anonymous was important to our lifestyle; the closer we got to people, the more likely they were to notice our peculiarities. No, Rosalie was just being selfish, as usual. She was willing to put our family at risk just to feed her insatiable appetite for society.

By the time we got home, I had worked my temper up another notch. I jumped out of the car and rushed into the house, reaching our parents two seconds before she did.

Carlisle and Esme were snuggled together on the couch, listening to a radio program. Carlisle smiled when he saw us enter. "Hello! How was-" He stopped, his face falling when he saw the anger on both our faces.

"Edward, don't you dare!" Rosalie hissed, coming up behind me.

"If you don't, then I will," I shot back over my shoulder, stalking up to our parents.

"Of all the anti-social, overbearing-"

Carlisle stood up. "Would somebody please tell me what's going on?" he sighed.

I jerked my head toward Rosalie. "Your daughter has a _date_ tonight. With a _human."_

Esme stood up, the concern on her face matching that on Carlisle's.

"We're just going out to dinner," Rosalie protested. "It's a boy in one of my Engineering classes. A friend."

Carlisle sighed again. "Rosalie, I thought you understood this. We can't be getting involved with our human peers-"

"It's just dinner," she repeated stubbornly. "You never said we couldn't have _friends."_

"There's a difference between having a passing acquaintance with someone and going on a date with them," I interjected.

_I'll handle this, Edward. _"Rosalie… I understand how important it is for you to be around people. And since you joined this family, we've been doing that a lot-"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Yes, going out once a month is _so_ fun."

Carlisle frowned. "Don't interrupt, Rosalie. My point is, that having an extended one-on-one interaction with another person is quite different from 'going out' with your family. I really don't think it's appropriate for you to be going on a _date. _Perhaps you could befriend several classmates, and spend time studying with them on campus sometimes."

"Carlisle's right, dear," Esme added. "If you go out with this boy, he's going to be paying very close attention to you- to your appearance, especially. And if it's a dinner date, he's going to notice if you don't eat."

"Like he did when you sat _alone_ with him at lunch today," I said loudly.

"I'll take a few bites, then. And I promise it'll just be this one time- I won't let it get out of hand."

Carlisle wasn't convinced. "Rosalie, I don't think-"

"_Please_, Carlisle! Lots of people go on just one date! And anyway, _you_ have dinner with the other doctors all the time. _You _have friends."

Carlisle sighed in defeat; she had him there. He often "ate" dinner with a colleague or two, both at the hospital and in restaurants. Esme had accompanied him a few times, and he had even gone golfing once or twice. As a physician, he didn't have the option to remain anonymous like we did. And he was naturally so compassionate and friendly that his coworkers were drawn to him. We had only lived here two years and he had recently been voted Physician of the Year by the hospital employees. Carlisle had protested the award, saying he didn't want the attention. But the committee was adamant that he receive it; protesting further would have drawn even more attention.

"All right, Rosalie," he sighed. "You can go tonight. But I want you to make it perfectly clear to this boy that you are going as a friend. I don't want there to be any physical contact."

Rosalie beamed, running up and hugging him. "Oh! Thank you!"

Esme followed her upstairs, half-heartedly agreeing to help her pick out what to wear. _I still don't think this is a good idea. She's going to want more than just one little date, and then what are we going to do?_

As soon as they were upstairs, I turned to my father. "I can't believe you're letting her go," I said accusingly.

He shrugged. "I don't like it, but she has a point. I do get to socialize more than the rest of you, because of the nature of my job. And it means so much more to her than it does to the rest of us."

"That doesn't mean you have to let her do whatever she wants. You're just feeling guilty again, and it's making you too permissive."

"And you're too involved," he replied. "In fact, I'll wager that your hovering is what pushed her into this."

I sat down on the couch, running my hands through my hair. "Possibly," I admitted.

He sat down beside me, looking at the stairs. _It's not easy being a father, Edward. Parenting isn't just about saying no all the time- especially when your children are really young adults. Rosalie needs room to breathe._

"She doesn't need to breathe at all," I shot back.

"Don't get smart, Edward. You know what I mean. Esme and I always had an easy time with you." I gave him a look. "Well, except for that. My point is, Rosalie has always been a little more… complicated. And we don't need you trying to be a third parent. It just makes it worse."

"I know," I sighed, standing back up. I headed upstairs to get my homework done, trying to ignore the girlish squealing over dresses in the room next to mine.

.

.

.

At six o'clock, we heard a car pull up in front of the house. I headed to my window and anxiously checked on George's mind, but his intentions seemed to be gentlemanly enough. Carlisle walked Rosalie out and mumbled something to George about being back by ten o'clock. Rosalie bristled mentally, but wisely kept her mouth shut.

After they drove away, I headed downstairs, putting my shoes back on. "Don't tell me _you_ have a date, too!" Carlisle joked.

"I'm following them."

"Edward! What did I just say about giving her some space?"

"I'm not taking the car," I protested. "She'll never know I was there."

"No, Edward. We can trust her to go out on one date. She doesn't need a chaperone."

"But I just-"

"_No_, Edward."

I took my shoes back off, throwing them back into the closet with a _thud_. "Fine," I growled. "But I'm telling you, this is a bad idea."

"You may be right." _And if you hear anything later that I need to know…_

I flashed him a grin before returning upstairs. There was more than one way to skin a cat.


	3. Disappointment

I was pleasantly surprised to hear George's car returning just before ten o'clock. Rosalie was already blocking me from her mind, but no matter; I would find out what had happened. I felt just a twinge of guilt at my plan, but I reminded myself that if she was blocking me out, it meant there was almost certainly something I needed to hear. I was at the piano, but I stopped playing to listen to their conversation as they approached.

They were nearly to the house now. "My father will be watching out the window," Rosalie said in a playful tone.

"Ah," said George, obviously disappointed. _There goes my plan for a goodnight kiss. Tomorrow, then._

I perked up my ears. Tomorrow?

"Goodbye!" Rosalie called as he drove away. She waved after him for a few moments, and then entered the house. Carlisle hadn't exactly been watching out the window, but he and Esme were both waiting in the living room, trying to look relaxed.

"Hello, dear!" Esme said as Rosalie came inside. "How did it go?"

"Oh, it was nice," Rosalie said absently, as she looked around the room. "Where's Edward?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. _If he followed me, I swear-_

"I'm right here, Rosalie," I called from the piano. She hadn't seen me because of the vase sitting on the top.

"Oh. Hello." She sat down as I resumed my song, and talked about her date for a few minutes. She was obviously trying to downplay her excitement; even Esme could tell. At any rate, there didn't seem to be much to tell. They had gone to dinner, and then spent most of the evening walking around Knox Park. Carlisle seemed pleased that Rosalie had enjoyed herself, but also that she didn't appear too excited.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time, sweetheart," he said casually, picking up the newspaper again.

"Yes, it was nice. I don't think he's my type, though," she said wistfully.

Carlisle lowered the paper slightly. "Rosalie…"

"I know, I know. Anyway, it was fun. I'm going to take a shower, though. I still smell like that awful restaurant."

"And I'm going hunting," I announced as I stood up from the piano. My face was a convincing mask of thirst; ever since our classmate had bled in front of us on Monday, Carlisle had been urging me to go hunting.

"Finally," he said from behind the paper.

Rosalie went upstairs, and I headed out the front door, shutting it loudly. I ran in a wide circle, staying close to the house. Sure enough, Rosalie began to relax her thoughts after about twenty minutes.

_Ugh, I'm so glad he left._ She began remembering the details of her date with George; she had had a much better time than she had let on earlier. George had been quite gentlemanly at first, but as the evening went on, they had both become more flirtatious. During their walk in the park, he had tried to steal a kiss, and Rosalie had just managed to dodge him, laughing. She had let him catch her the second time, though, and she had accepted the kiss with disturbing ease.

I crept closer to the house, watching her thoughts carefully. Other than the one kiss, it seemed they hadn't touched at all; that was good. But I saw that they had agreed to meet in the park again tomorrow morning; that was _not_ good. Even worse, Rosalie was wondering if they would be able to kiss again; she was trying to think of ways to warm up her hands and mouth. She was also trying to come up with a good excuse to go "hunting" alone tomorrow morning, so that she could get away.

The worst part was that she didn't even _like_ George. She still remembered his comment from Monday about her not being able to have babies, and although she had enjoyed the date itself, she clearly found him to be a dull companion. He was just the latest pawn in her game; the fact that she was taking it to a new level had nothing to do with him as a person.

I had heard enough. I ran into the forest, quickly feeding from the first deer I came across. After I had drunk my fill, I quickly returned to the house, to find Rosalie concentrating furiously on her homework. I stormed up the stairs, raising my fist to pound at her door. But at the last moment, I decided against it. I would give her a chance to change her mind, to realize how ridiculous she was being. As angry as I was, I didn't really_ want_ to get her in trouble. I headed back downstairs to work on my latest composition.

Rosalie did an admirable job of keeping her thoughts under control throughout the night. After she had finished her homework, she read the rest of her Engineering textbook, and then went to the garage to work, reciting the words she had read, and then translating the whole thing into Spanish. Even if I hadn't spied on her when she had come home, it would have been blatantly obvious that she was hiding something.

Finally the sun rose, and she took another shower, spending twice as long as usual in front of the mirror. I was with our parents in the living room. Esme was sketching out some ideas for landscaping, and I was watching her draw, making suggestions and occasionally sketching a bit myself. Carlisle was at the dining room table, catching up on his journaling while he listened to the radio.

Rosalie came quietly down the stairs, trying not to attract attention. "Going hunting," she murmured on her way down.

Esme put her sketchpad aside. "Oh, good! I'll go with you. Edward, would you take these upstairs?"

"Oh, I think I'd like to go alone today… it's been quite a long week at school," Rosalie said, looking back at Esme with a carefully blank face. Esme shrugged, and she took another step down the stairs.

"You can drop it, Rosalie," I sighed. "I know where you're really going."

Carlisle reached over and turned off the radio as Rosalie froze, her plans jumping to the front of her mind. "Well, Rosalie?" he asked.

"Unbelievable," she whispered, glaring at me. _I can't believe you actually followed us._

"I didn't follow you," I replied. "I heard you thinking about it last night."

"Guess you didn't really go hunting, then." _Now who's the liar? _

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice your ridiculous attempts to keep me out of your head? It was obvious you were hiding something."

"If you would keep out of my head _all_ the time, I wouldn't _need_ to do that," she said hotly, gripping the banister and digging into the wood with her fingers.

"You know I can't turn it off," I growled back.

"Stop it, both of you!" Esme scolded.

"Where _are_ you going?" Carlisle demanded.

"Nowhere, apparently," she hissed, turning back around to head up the stairs. She looked at me on her way up, silently begging me to keep her secret. I just stared back at her, and she paused. For one tense moment, she was thinking about turning around and running out the door. But she clenched her teeth and continued up to her room, slamming the door behind her. _If you tell them, I am never going to forgive you. Do you hear me? NEVER._

Carlisle closed his journal, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. _All right, Edward, is this something I need to know about?_

I took a deep breath. I usually tried to keep everyone's secrets, but I really didn't think it was the right thing to do this time. Rosalie was going down a dangerous path.

"Yes, it is," I said finally. "She was going to meet George again. They kissed last night, and she wants to do it again. They were going to meet in the park. She was trying to figure out how to warm up her hands and her mouth."

A crash sounded from upstairs; unfortunately, it wasn't coming from Rosalie's room. It was coming from _my _room, and it sounded suspiciously like a couch being broken in half.

"And you heard this in her thoughts?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes. And he was thinking about 'tomorrow' when he brought her home last night. I knew she was hiding something, so when I went hunting last night, I stayed close enough to hear."

Carlisle looked at Esme, who returned his gaze sadly. _I knew this was going to happen_, Esme thought.

"Anything else?" Carlisle asked in a low voice.

I shrugged. "Not really."

He sat silently for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. He couldn't let Rosalie's lie go unpunished, but he was also tormented by the usual guilt. He knew that Rosalie hated the life that he had given her, and he knew that she was especially bitter about her inability to have normal relationships. He glanced at me again. _Does she really like this boy?_

"No," I said honestly. "It's all a game. She couldn't care less about him."

Carlisle's frown deepened. He was deeply disappointed, but also relieved. I saw now that he had been worried that Rosalie had truly been interested in the human; if it turned into a real relationship, we would have had a _real_ problem on our hands. The fact that Rosalie didn't really care about George actually made it easier to deal with. He hated to be harsh, but he agreed with me; this was a dangerous path that Rosalie had set herself on. The Denali sisters appeared in his mind, and he shuddered at the thought of Rosalie becoming like them. _Not while she's under MY roof_, he thought firmly.

He came and sat on Esme's other side for a moment, conferring with her briefly. Then he stood up. "Rosalie," he said calmly. "Come downstairs, please."

She appeared, already sitting in the other chair, in less than a second. Her arms were crossed and she was giving me a murderous look.

Carlisle frowned down at her from where he was standing. "I'm sure you can understand why your mother and I are disappointed with you," he began.

Rosalie's grip tightened around her arms. "Just because Edward-"

"This has nothing to do with your brother," Carlisle interrupted. "We're discussing _your_ behavior right now. When I let you go out with that boy last night, you promised me that it would be a one-time outing between friends. Now I find out that not only did you break your promise, but you were about to sneak out behind our backs!"

"You wouldn't have let me go," she said sulkily.

"Of course we wouldn't have! What conclusion could possibly come from this kind of relationship?"

"I wouldn't have let it go anywhere," she countered.

"That's what you said _last_ night," he argued. "But you didn't keep your word. I can't believe you let him _kiss_ you!"

"Well, _he_ didn't seem to mind," she said under her breath.

Carlisle took another step towards her, his eyes darkening. If he had been human, his face would have been beet red. "No daughter of mine is going to be a _succubus_!"

She leapt to her feet. "I would never have done _that_! Edward, tell him!"

"It's true that she was only thinking about kissing him," I said in her defense. "But Rosalie, if you were so unrestrained on the first date-"

"This is 1935, Edward!" she yelled back. "Not 1918! And it's certainly not the seventeenth century anymore," she hissed, turning back to Carlisle. "In case you haven't noticed, women aren't the spineless chattel that they were back in your day. I can kiss whoever I want, and I don't need _your_ permission to do so!"

"You aren't like other women, Rosalie," Esme said impatiently. "Don't you realize that you could have _killed_ him?"

"I was in control the whole time," Rosalie shot back. "And you don't need to remind me that I'm not human. As if I could forget what a freak of nature your husband turned me into!"

"Rosalie," Carlisle growled in a low, dangerous voice, "that is quite enough. Now sit _down._"

"Please, Rosalie," Esme said gently. "We're trying to help you. Just calm down for a moment, and we'll talk about it."

Rosalie glanced back and forth between them for a moment. Then she slowly sank back down into the chair, still glaring up at him, but she didn't speak again.

"That's better," Carlisle said. "Now-"

But his words were interrupted by the drone of an engine. I stretched out with my gift, sighing when I heard George's hopeful thoughts. _Maybe she forgot. She sure seemed interested yesterday. I'll tell her father that I'm coming to borrow one of her textbooks- no, that she wasn't feeling well last night, and I wanted to check on her, but I had lost her phone number…_

"It's the human," I growled to Carlisle. "And he's trying to decide which lie to hand you to explain his arrival."

"I don't believe this," Carlisle muttered as he headed for the door. Rosalie began to get up as well, but he spun around and pointed a finger at her. "_You_ will stay put, young lady. _I_ will handle this." Rosalie let out an angry breath, but sat down again.

Carlisle closed the door, walking out briskly to meet George's car before it reached the house. George slowed to a stop, rolling down his window.

"Good morning, sir," he said pleasantly. "I just wanted to see how Rosalie was feeling today."

Carlisle's anger faded into confusion. "Feeling? About what?"

George swallowed, realizing that his lie wasn't making sense. "Uh… well, she wasn't feeling too well last night. At least, I thought she wasn't. She didn't eat much. I mean, she seemed to be feeling better by the end, but I just thought I'd check on her today." _Stupid. I should have used the textbook one. I forgot he was a doctor. Of course he would know if she was really sick._

Carlisle put on a mask of concern. "Ah, yes. Her appetite _has_ been off lately. And now that you mention it, she did sleep quite late this morning. Thank you for your concern, George, but I'll take it from here."

"Sir, could you tell her-"

"I'm going to be honest with you," Carlisle interrupted. "I really don't think that Rosalie has time to pursue a relationship with you right now. Her studies require her full attention, and I think it would be best if you keep your friendship confined to your classes."

"But-"

"I'm not going repeat myself, George. You will not see my daughter again. Good day." He turned around and entered the house.

George just stared after him for a moment before driving away. _Good grief! Is this guy from the dark ages or what? I thought Rosalie was the independent type. Guess I was wrong._ He spun the car around, and drove away, relieved that he hadn't gotten more involved with Rosalie- dealing with a father like that wasn't worth the effort.

Carlisle glanced over at me when he came in. _Is he thinking anything suspicious?_

I gave him a smirk. "Other than deciding that you belong in the Middle Ages, no." Carlisle's eyes widened in fear. "No, he's not serious about that," I said quickly. "He's just surprised at how old-fashioned you are. I think you scared him off pretty well."

"Oh. Well, good."

Rosalie just shook her head. _George is right. This family is ridiculous. I'll bet if I was with the Denali coven, I wouldn't be having this conversation._

"I can't believe you just thought that," I snapped at her. "You don't seem to realize how lucky you are to have _any_ kind of parents. And Carlisle and Esme only want what's best for you! They _love_ you, and you're treating them like dirt!"

"_Now_ what?" Carlisle moaned, turning back to his daughter.

Rosalie glared at me, waiting for me to betray her thoughts again. When I didn't, she decided to do it herself. She stuck her chin out defiantly. "I was thinking that if I was with the Denalis, then I would have a lot more freedom."

"_Freedom_?" he sputtered. "If freedom is all that matters to you, then maybe you're right. Maybe you _do _belong up in Alaska!"

Esme finally stood, laying a soothing hand on Carlisle's arm. "You know you didn't mean that, Carlisle," she said quietly.

"No," he admitted, his shoulders dropping in shame. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry, Rosalie. I should never have said that."

His apology pushed her over the edge. She finally started to cry, holding her head in her hands as her body shook tearlessly. All three of us were by her side instantly, laying our hands on her back. _I can't stand it. He's just so kind, and all I can do is make him feel worse. I can't do anything right. Why didn't he just let me die, when I should have? I'll bet he regrets ever saving me._

I reached over and gently lifted her chin, letting her see the worry in my eyes. "That's not true, Rosalie. You have a family who loves you. Please, let us help you."

She just jerked her head away from my hand, and buried her face in Esme's blouse. After a few minutes of weeping, she leaned back into the chair, wiping her eyes. They were still dry, of course, but she had forgotten.

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, lifting her eyes up to Carlisle, who was kneeling beside her now. "I'm sorry I lied. I just wanted to feel _normal_ for once."

"I know," he said simply. "But I'm afraid what you did with George was a mistake. This family holds human life to be sacred, Rosalie. I will not allow you to-"

"I wasn't going to hurt him, I swear," she said defensively.

"I know you didn't intend to. But if things had progressed any further, you might have killed him by accident. And this isn't just about his _life_. He's a human being, Rosalie! He doesn't deserve to be used by you, or by anyone! Now, if you had truly had feelings for him-"

"Then what?" she challenged. "You would have let me do whatever I wanted?" _Yeah, right._

"Well, no… but…" He paused, trying to imagine what it would be like if Rosalie or I _did_ fall in love with a human. "I suppose that we would have to cross that bridge, if we ever came to it. But playing games with him, when you don't even feel anything for him, is absolutely _wrong_. Don't you see that?"

The Denali sisters flew across Rosalie's mind again. She had never met them, but we had a few photographs of our "cousins" hanging in the upstairs hallway. "I guess so," she said tiredly.

Carlisle frowned, disappointed at her lack of conviction. "Well, it _is_ wrong," he said firmly.

"I'm an adult, Carlisle. I'm eighteen- twenty, really. If I-"

Carlisle stood back up. He was trying not to get angry again. "Rosalie, as long as you live with this family, you will follow my rules," he said quietly. "And if you don't like those rules, I'm not going to force you to stay here. Like you said, you're eighteen- although your behavior this weekend has been quite a bit younger than _that_."

"I know. I'm sorry," she repeated again. "And I do want to stay. I do think of you as my parents. I do… love you both."

_Thank God. I thought she was really going to leave for a moment there._ "That's good. And we love you, as well. And that is why we can't allow you to repeat these foolish mistakes. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

He crossed his arms. "Good. Because that's exactly what I'm going to consider this. A mistake. But lying to your mother and I was inexcusable. You're going to be grounded for the next week."

Rosalie frowned. "But what about school? The semester just started."

"No, you will be staying home. You'll be able to catch up easily when you return- _if_ you return. I want you to use this week to decide whether you are willing to follow a lifestyle that respects human life. _And_ human dignity. If you come to the conclusion that you aren't willing, then you will have my blessing to move on to Alaska, or wherever you wish."

"But I don't wa_nt_ to leave!" Rosalie protested, panic rising in her throat.

Carlisle sighed and knelt down in front of her again. He took her hand in both of his. "I don't want that either. But I also don't want you to think that you have no choice. You _do_ have freedom. I love you very much, Rosalie- you're the daughter that I never thought I would be able to have. But if you are truly unhappy here, then I won't force you to stay. I hope you do, though."

"I want you to stay, too," Esme pleaded.

"As do I," I added truthfully. Rosalie looked at me skeptically, but her eyes softened as she saw the love in my own. "I know you want more than we can give you," I said softly. "But think about what you stand to lose. There is no other family like this in the world, and we love you."

"And that love means that we are not going to let you to go down the path that you were about to go down," Carlisle said firmly, releasing her hand. "So over the next week, I want you to think about the things we have talked about. All right?"

"All right," she echoed lifelessly.

"Good." He stood up, running his hand awkwardly through his hair. "Now that _that's_ over, I think that we could all use a good hunt. And we are going to go as a _family_."

He and Esme headed out the door, and I waited as Rosalie slowly stood up, motioning for her to go out the door first. She stared back at me for a moment, and then shuffled outside, leaving me with one scathing thought:

_I hate you._

_._

_._

_._

**A/N: I know I promised this story will be more light-hearted, and it will be once Emmett hits the scene. But the Illustrated Guide mentions that Rosalie became a completely different person when Emmett came along, so I needed to write her character as being a bit more troubled before that happens. There will be one more sad-Rosalie chapter and then things will get exciting.**

**Note to Gigi- You will get your request in the next chapter, although it will be more sad than cute. Stay tuned!**


	4. Misery and Music

Rosalie's week at home was far harder on Carlisle than it was on Rosalie herself. Since he worked the night shift, he was around her much more than he had been before, and he was wracked with guilt every time he looked at her. He was terribly worried that Rosalie would decide to leave after all, and was appalled that he had been the one to put the idea about the Denali sisters into her head in the first place. He was constantly going over the words he had spoken to her on Saturday morning, wondering how he could have done it differently. One minute, he was angry at himself for allowing her to go out on Friday night, and the next minute he was wondering if he should take everything back and let her do whatever she wanted. And he was always thinking about how stupid he had been to change Rosalie in the first place. _One thing's for sure_, he thought bitterly as he got home from work Tuesday morning, _I'm never changing anyone, ever again. I'm through playing God._

I walked outside and jumped onto the roof, where he was sitting. He liked to come out here sometimes to think, and he had spent an unusual amount of time up here in the past three days. I landed right beside him, but he didn't even look up.

I sat down and sat with him in silence for a while, listening as he berating himself for ruining Rosalie's life. "You're wrong, you know," I said finally. "This isn't your fault."

He just looked at me, and then away into the distance. "Yes, it is. I have no one to blame but myself for Rosalie's unhappiness."

"She's not that unhappy," I argued. "She's been enjoying her classes, and you know how much joy it gives her to work on the cars and… and on herself." Carlisle finally smiled, picturing the similarities between the supplies Rosalie kept in the garage, and the huge closet full of cosmetics and jewelry.

"This is just a rough spot," I continued. "It's been hard for her, being around college students. Her peers are older now than they were in high school. A lot of them are settling down- getting married, having babies. She thinks about it a lot."

"I know."

"But she does enjoy being at the University. She'll want to go back next week, I'm sure of it."

"You really think so?"

I nodded. Rosalie hadn't seriously entertained the idea of leaving. She really _didn't_ want to be like the Denali sisters. She wanted the opposite: she wanted Vera's life. I had been plagued all weekend by images of Rosalie's friend. Over and over, I saw Vera's face lighting up when her husband walked in the door, kissing her after a hard day's work. Over and over, I saw baby Henry, his black curls dancing in the breeze as he toddled around the grass, Vera clapping for him and speaking in baby gibberish to encourage his dimpled smile. Sometimes, Rosalie put herself in the picture: I saw her kneeling in the grass, her dark blue eyes glowing as she clapped for baby Henry. Her husband- his face a blur- kneeling down beside her, wrapping a warm arm around her shoulders as they proudly watched their child taking his first steps. My heart ached at the peaceful scene; if this is what Rosalie thought the perfect life would be, then she really never _was_ going to be happy. It was true that she was enjoying college so far. She shared every vampire's insatiable curiosity, and she _was_ proud to be the first female Engineering student. But she clearly thought that this life was a far cry from the life she was supposed to have.

At least Rosalie hadn't been giving me grief all weekend, like I had thought she would. In fact, she wasn't speaking to me at all. She treated me like a pariah, making it a point to leave a room every time I entered it. After our hunting trip on Saturday, she hadn't spent more than a total of five minutes in my presence since then. I couldn't escape her thoughts, of course. She wasn't trying to deliberately think daggers at me, like she sometimes did when she was angry. But she blamed me wholeheartedly for getting her into trouble. I had officially been branded a traitor, and I hated to admit that if it kept her out of my hair for a few days, I didn't mind.

"And what about the boy?" Carlisle's voice brought me back to the present. _Does she still think about him? _I reached down, picking at one of the loose shingles while I decided what to say. Rosalie was doing something in the garage, and she wouldn't be able to hear me if I spoke quietly. But I really didn't want to betray any more of her thoughts to Carlisle. I had only done it before because I knew she needed to be stopped. The truth was that Rosalie hadn't given George a second thought. She had, however, been thinking about other boys in her classes. She wasn't planning anything in particular, but it was clear that her little adventure had whetted her appetite for male companionship.

"I think you should talk to her yourself," I said slowly. "You know I don't like sharing things that aren't my business."

_I understand that. And I know she's angry with you for getting her into trouble. But you did the right thing by telling me._

I just nodded.

_And if you see any indication that she's headed down that path again, I need to know. I don't want that life for her. But I also have our family to think about. She's obviously not considering all the ramifications of her actions. Her actions were dangerous in more ways than one._

I nodded again, giving him my silent promise. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked aloud. _Besides spying on my own sister._

He chuckled. "You can thank your lucky stars that you don't have a daughter. I never thought I'd be fending off the suitors. I have to admit, I rather enjoyed that part."

"I know, and you're quite good at it." I had also enjoyed the look on George's face when Carlisle had told him off. I felt a pang of envy, just for a moment. _ I_ would never know what it felt like to have a daughter. Even if by some miracle I did find a mate someday, I would want for us to stay with Carlisle forever. Any additional members of the coven- _family_, I corrected- would just be more siblings. Although from the way Carlisle was thinking now, it looked like our family was complete. He didn't want to risk "ruining" anyone else's life. Or death, as the case may be.

For a brief moment, I let myself dream. I was walking with a girl in white next to me, escorting her down the aisle and passing her hand to that of another man. I sat down next to my wife- her face a blur, just like all the other faces- and we watched proudly as our daughter said her wedding vows. But the blurry faces were all pink or brown, and warm. And I felt my heart beating furiously as I watched my daughter's veil fall away- this was a human daydream.

It ended, and I sighed aloud. Carlisle looked at me curiously. "Just wondering," I mused.

"About what?"

"What it would be like to have a daughter," I said wistfully.

_And a wife?_

"Yes." Now it was my turn to stare into the distance sadly. Rosalie wasn't the only one who daydreamed about blurry faces.

"I think that day will come, son. Just give it time." _I had to wait for Esme for almost three hundred years, you know. Don't give up so easily._

I smiled back at him, and stood up. "I have to get to school."

_I wish I could go, too. This house is getting more awkward every day. Maybe if-_

His mind was suddenly full of charts and tables; he was focusing intently on an article he had just read in his favorite medical journal.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

He grinned up at me. "Nothing. Go to school." _And Edward… thank you._

I smiled back at him and launched myself off the roof, landing a few feet from the garage. As I entered, I saw Rosalie's legs sticking out from under my car.

"I have to go to school. Move."

Silence.

"Rosalie, I'm going to count to three. If you're not out from under there-"

_Have fun,_ she thought in a sing-song voice as she slid out, walking quickly into the house. I growled at the kitchen door as it slammed in my face, and got in my car. I turned the key; nothing happened. I tried a couple more times, with no success. I got out and popped the hood, only to find a gaping hole; my engine was gone.

"You've got to be kidding me," I breathed.

After a moment, Carlisle appeared in the garage. "What's- oh." He stared at my car for a moment, and burst out laughing.

"It's not funny. Where's Rosalie?" I listened for her mind, but it was fading quickly.

"She and Esme went down to the river," he said, trying not to laugh again.

"I have an exam at eight o'clock! It's not funny!" I started looking through Rosalie's many shelves of car parts, and Carlisle began looking on the other side of the room. He finally found it buried under a pile of oily rags.

"Come on, I'll help you," he sighed as he picked up the engine with one hand.

.

.

.

The rest of the week continued in the same fashion. When Rosalie wasn't ignoring me completely, she was plotting the next phase of her revenge. After the engine episode, Carlisle had grounded her from working in the garage the rest of the week. She had accepted the extra punishment with practiced grace, and when she turned to face me, she thought pointedly: _It was worth it._ In addition to destroying my couch and disabling my car, she had also hidden all my clothes in the woods, tied knots in all my shoelaces, and turned all the books on my bookshelf upside down. She was doing just enough to be annoying, without getting into further trouble. But on Friday morning I overheard her thinking about taking the strings out of my piano.

"You wouldn't dare," I growled from the living room.

_Probably not_, she thought from upstairs_. Although it would be nice to have a break from your tinkering with that stupid song._

"Will you stop acting like such a child? If you have something to say to me, come down here and say it!"

_I don't need to. You'll just pick everything out of my head eventually. It's what you do best, isn't it?_

I stood and slammed the piano shut, stalking out the door on my way to school. I passed Carlisle in the driveway and he rolled down his window, motioning for me to do the same.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Why don't you tell me? You look like you're about to kill somebody."

"I might."

_Not again…_

"Just keep her away from my piano, will you?" I sighed, rolling my window back up.

_"_All right, I'll talk to her. Have a good day at school." I nodded curtly and sped off.

.

.

.

When I returned after school, the atmosphere at home was even more tense than before. It seemed that in addition to confronting Rosalie about her pranks, Carlisle had also gotten into an argument with Esme. Esme had wanted him to take a firmer hand with Rosalie, but Carlisle had refused. Even though I had reassured him, he was still worried that Rosalie would choose to leave and go to Alaska. Esme had pointed out that if they didn't get their daughter under control, she would eventually push me too far, and things would only get worse no matter where she lived. After a few minutes of arguing, Carlisle had finally put his foot down and demanded that Esme stay out of it. In an uncharacteristic burst of temper, Esme had stormed out of the house and gone into the woods alone.

I gathered all this from Carlisle's mind before I even reached the porch. He was sitting on the roof again, trying to decide whether he should go after Esme or not. I crouched down in the grass in preparation for my leap upwards, but he stopped me before I could jump.

_Not now, Edward. Just leave me alone for a bit, please._

I sighed and headed into the house, running up the stairs in two steps. I burst into Rosalie's room, finding her lying on her bed and reading. I tore the book out of her hands and threw it across the room. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to this family?" I whispered angrily. "I've never seen them fight like that before! Carlisle won't even talk to me!"

She didn't even try to defend herself. Carlisle and Esme's fight had shaken her, as well. My own anger dissipated, and I sat down beside her on the bed. "I've been an idiot," she sighed.

"Yes, you have. Are you quite finished?"

She glared at me, but nodded. "I suppose I should go talk to him."

"You can try, but he's thinking about going after Esme." But I could hear Esme's thoughts growing in my mind. "No, wait. I think she's coming back. Let's let them alone for now."

Rosalie mulled over what she wanted to say to Carlisle while we waited. I tried to stay out of my parents' minds and give them some privacy, but my curiosity overcame me. Would they fight again? I had never seen them like this before. I held my breath as Esme closed the rest of the distance and leapt up onto the roof, straight into Carlisle's arms. He caught her and held her tightly for several minutes before whispering his apology.

"I'm sorry, too. I don't know what came over me," Esme sighed as she leaned into his shoulder. "You've been through so much this week, and I had to-"

"No, _we've_ been through so much this week. I was a fool, Esme. You are just as much their mother as I am their father. I should never have taken any action without speaking with you first. And the way I spoke to you was awful. Can you forgive me?"

Esme tackled him with a kiss, and I pulled out of their minds quickly. "They've made up," I whispered, smiling to Rosalie, who sighed in relief.

_I never want to see that again. I can't believe I messed things up so much. They've always been the perfect couple- for them to fight, I must have-"_

"That's not going to help," I interrupted. "Just go talk to them, please?"

She rolled out of the bed, flying down the stairs with me a few steps behind her. Our parents were waiting on the lawn for us, clinging to each other as they braced themselves for whatever new problem they assumed we were bringing outside.

"Carlisle, Esme… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry… again. I know I've made everyone miserable this week." She took a deep breath. "And I've thought about everything you said, Carlisle. I'm not going to… do that anymore. I want to be a part of this family forever."

Carlisle broke into a grin. _At last! _He and Esme drew Rosalie into a warm embrace. She then turned around, gathering up her courage to speak to me, as well. She was ready to apologize to me… almost.

"Edward, I…"

"I know."

She smiled, relieved not to have to speak the words aloud. _Thank you._

"Well, Rosalie, I think you've learned your lesson," Carlisle said cheerfully. "And it's a good thing, too, because I have a surprise for everyone."

We all turned toward him, and I watched curiously as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. Was this was he had been hiding from me?

"As you all know, I was voted Physician of the Year, and there's a banquet at the Read House Hotel in Chattanooga tonight."

"They're giving you a banquet?" Esme asked, unsure whether to be alarmed or proud.

"Well, it's for several of us- fifteen or so doctors who won the award at each of our hospitals. It's also a fundraiser for the new hospital being built in Tullahoma. They'll present the awards after dinner, and then there'll be music. I usually shy away from events like this, but I think we could all do with something fun after this week. I'd like us to all go together." He opened the envelope, producing four tickets.

Rosalie wasn't impressed. _That doesn't sound like fun. It sounds like a bunch of doctors eating dinner_.

"And I want us all to wear our best," Carlisle continued. "There will be a big band, and dancing, and a rather famous young musician is going to be there as well."

That piqued my interest. "Who?"

Carlisle's grin grew larger, and he finally relaxed his thoughts. "Benny Goodman."

Rosalie and I practically jumped in the air. I couldn't believe it!

Esme frowned. "Who's Benny Goodman?"

"Are you kidding?" Rosalie shrieked. "He's only the greatest clarinetist who ever lived! I can't believe we're going to _see _him play!"

I was excited, as well. One of the first records I had ever bought was "Room 1411", an instrumental by Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller. Rosalie and I had been an avid listeners of "Let's Dance" until it had been cancelled earlier in the year; it had been one of the few activities we both enjoyed. We had even danced together sometimes, while we listened to the program. How had Esme managed to _not_ learn who Benny Goodman was?!

Rosalie was buzzing with excitement beside me. _I can't believe it! Carlisle is the best! I've got to start getting ready right now!_ She zipped back into the house.

Esme just took the tickets from Carlisle's hand, looking at them in disapproval. "He's not one of those jazz musicians, is he?"

"Esme! Don't you read the newspapers?" I asked incredulously. "He's bringing jazz into the mainstream, and he's started touring with Fletcher Henderson's music… Swing, Esme! He's the Rajah of Rhythm! Ever since that concert in L.A. last month-"

Esme just rolled her eyes and walked back into the house. Carlisle caught up to her, whispering for her to "be a good sport for the children's sake". She let out her famous long-suffering sigh and ran upstairs to get dressed.

I darted up to my room as well, flipping through my closet. "Suit or tuxedo?" I wondered aloud.

"Tuxedo!" Carlisle called from his room.

"And slick your hair back!" Esme added.

I groaned; she knew I hated doing that. But if she was going to be a good sport about the music, the least I could do was be a good sport about my appearance. I took my tuxedo out and brushed it quickly, getting dressed in seconds. A perfect fit, as always; there were definitely benefits to being immortal. I headed into the bathroom and reluctantly filled my palm with the oily pomade, slopping it through my hair and brushing everything back. I brushed for a good three minutes, but no matter what I did, there were always one or two locks of hair that refused to conform.

I joined Carlisle downstairs, prepared to spend the next hour waiting for the women. But they were speedier than usual, and soon Rosalie appeared in a baby blue evening gown, complete with diamond earrings, gloves and bluebells in her hair. Her hair itself was partially gathered into an off-center twist, spilling down her right shoulder and her back in golden waves. I whistled at her, earning a smack which dislodged my hairstyle.

"You look lovely, Rosalie," Carlisle said proudly. "Edward, go fix your hair before your mother sees you like that."

I scowled at my sister, who stuck her tongue out at me as I headed back up the stairs. I added more oil and brushed yet again, grumbling to myself about how long it was going to take to clean my hair when we got home tonight. By the time I got back downstairs, Esme was already waiting for me, and my jaw dropped when I saw her; she was _stunning._

She had on a simple black dinner gown with butterfly sleeves, cut in silhouette to the floor. The dress itself was quite understated, but the sash and sidepiece were a beautiful shade of scarlet, which brought out the highlights in her hair. The matching shoes were barely peeking out at the hem, and her hair was gathered halfway up, with loose ringlets cascading down around her shoulders. She was wearing the pearls that Carlisle had given her on their wedding day. I glanced over at my father, who was still frozen in admiration.

"Esme," he stammered finally, "you… you look.._."_ She just smiled and accepted his arm on her way out the door, staring up at him with love.

Rosalie and I were sharing the same thought as we watched them step out into the night: we had the best parents in the world.

.

.

.

Carlisle had been too modest. The ballroom was packed with people dressed to the nines, and a big band was already playing quietly when we walked in. I glanced over the stage, finding Benny Goodman directing with his right hand while clutching his clarinet in his left. I jumped eagerly into his mind; he was trying to decide how much he could get away with, considering his distinguished audience tonight. He was keeping it quiet during the meal, but was pleased to see many young couples in attendance. He hoped that as the evening wore on, he would be able to get most of us dancing.

"There he is," I whispered in Rosalie's ear. She stood on her toes to see past the crowd, smiling when she saw him. "I think he's going to do mostly Swing, although he probably won't pick up the pace until after dinner."

I felt my mother's hand on my back. "Edward, fix your hair!" she whispered urgently. I reached up, tucking the disobedient lock of hair back into formation. As soon as Esme walked past me, I grinned and flicked it back out of place.

Carlisle found our place cards and led us to a table which we would share with two other doctors and their wives. He introduced everyone, and after seating the ladies, we sat down to chat while we waited for the soup. Dr. Jensen, who was seated on my right, was quite young and his wife had brought their baby son, who was barely holding himself upright in his high seat. Esme was delighted, and Dr. Jensen was mortified that he had let his wife talk him into bringing the baby tonight. Rosalie was just staring at the tiny human, her thoughts a swirl of envy.

"Oh, your boy is so adorable," Esme gushed. "What's his name?"

"Carlton Junior," said his mother proudly. "He's four months and the doctor says he's the biggest baby he's ever seen!"

They chattered on about babies for a while, and the soup was brought. I fingered one of my spoons with disgust; this was one food that I couldn't tear up into bits or hide in my napkin. But before I had time to come up with a strategy, a gloved hand swept my bowl away, replacing it with a tiny salad.

Carlisle and Dr. Jensen were deep in a debate about the lobotomy issue; this was a procedure that had come into practice earlier in the year, and I had already observed similar debates happening in higher-level classes when I was at school. I thought it sounded quite barbaric , and Carlisle agreed with me. Dr. Jensen, on the other hand was a huge proponent. Their debate was interrupted by the baby's wailing.

"Excuse me," his mother said as she prepared a glass bottle and lifted him out of the seat. But no sooner had she prepared the milk than she decided that it was too cold. "Carl," she whispered loudly. "Be a dear and get them to bring some hot water."

"For heaven's sakes, Anne," he hissed back. "This is a ballroom, not a nursery."

"Oh, never mind!" she snapped. She stood, looking for the nearest waiter. "I'll be right back. Would one of you ladies…?" Rosalie eagerly held out her arms and took the child while his mother went to flag down the waiter. She had the hold right; memories of holding baby Henry flooded her mind and I was surprised at the tender smile that suddenly shone on her face. But her cold arms were quite a shock to the baby, and his wailing only grew louder. I was fascinated by his infantile mind; I had never spent much time listening to a baby's thoughts before. He thought mainly in colors and faces; he didn't have a word for "cold" but he was picturing the warm darkness of his mother's womb, and wishing he could return there.

"He's cold," I explained to Rosalie, who was becoming nervous. She held him out to me, mentally pointing out my jacket sleeves.

I pulled away from her, frowning. "Don't look at _me_." I had no intention of holding a squirming, damp child while I was wearing my tuxedo. Carlisle stood and walked over to take the child, bouncing him expertly in the crook of his arm. Rosalie watched them sadly, her arms aching with the desire to hold the child again. I knew she wasn't actually injured; I had observed a similar pain registering in Esme's mind the few times we had been this close to a baby. It was a most peculiar phenomenon.

Baby Carlton quieted down in Carlisle's arms, and by the time his mother returned, he was almost asleep. Mrs. Jensen took him back and settled into her chair to feed him. "You're a natural," she said to Carlisle, blushing when he returned her smile. "You must have been quite young when you had your children."

"Oh, Edward and Rosalie are adopted," Esme explained. "Though we've had them both for many years."

"And do you intend to follow in your father's footsteps, young man?" Dr. Jensen asked me.

"Yes, sir," I replied politely. "I'm a first-year student at the University, on track for pre-med."

"Excellent, excellent," he said, stuffing a pork medallion into his mouth; the main dish had arrived, much to my dismay. The smell was awful, and baby Carlton's presence was adding a particularly odd stench to the air.

"And what about you, dear?" Mrs. Jensen asked Rosalie, eyeing her ringless hand. "I'm sure your brother has been quite busy keeping his classmates away from your door."

"Yes, he's rather protective," Rosalie answered, throwing me an annoyed glance. "Though I am also a student at the University."

"Oh, how nice! A nurse and two doctors, all in one family!"

"I'm majoring in Mechanical Engineering, actually," Rosalie said proudly. "It's quite fascinating."

"Oh!" Mrs. Jensen said awkwardly, glancing at her husband. "Isn't that… modern!" _Poor girl. I do hope Dr. Cullen isn't letting her wait too long. Young ladies these days have such strange ideas. I'm glad Daddy didn't make me finish high school. But she's so beautiful! What a shame._

Rosalie noticed her disapproval. "What is she thinking?" she asked behind her hands.

"She doesn't understand why you would want to go to college, with your looks," I whispered back. I had thought Rosalie would take it as a compliment, but I instantly regretted my candor. Rosalie frowned and the bitterness returned with such force I could almost taste it in the air. "Don't mind her," I added gently. "She never even made it past the ninth grade."

But the damage had been done. Rosalie kept her eyes on the baby for the rest of the dinner, and I finally had to nudge her and remind her to act human. She shifted in her seat and began playing with her hair, but her thoughts were caught in a downward spiral as she watched the people around her.

Thankfully, her misery was soon interrupted by the announcement that the awards were about to be presented. The music slowed to a stop, and Carlisle and Dr. Jensen joined the line of recipients crowding beside the stage. As Carlisle waited his turn, he was dismayed to see that a photograph was being taken of each doctor as he accepted his award. When his turn came, he gratefully accepted our applause, but took care to look down sullenly as the camera flashed. It was likely that the photographer would only choose one or two pictures to print in the newspaper, and he probably wouldn't pick one where the subject had forgotten to smile. Esme was beaming proudly and gave him a chaste kiss when he returned to the table.

Many of the award recipients were as young as Carlisle was pretending to be, or even younger. There were plenty of young couples and even several medical students in attendance, hoping to rub shoulders with their betters. But one by one, they noticed Rosalie and spent their meal staring at her.

Rosalie was keenly aware of the attention she was attracting. But instead of getting her usual satisfaction, it only made her more depressed. For the first time in our two years together, I heard her wishing that she _wasn't_ beautiful.

_If I had just been a little more plain, I would still be alive. I would have married a nice, normal young man. I would the one sitting there with my baby on my lap. And even now! All anyone ever cares about is how I look._

"If you don't like it, stop dressing like a fashion model," I said quietly.

_Oh, mind your own business!_

I got up and walked over to the stage; Rosalie just needed a little music to cheer her up, and I wouldn't mind speaking with Benny Goodman anyway. He eventually turned around and leaned down towards me.

"Good evening, Mr. Goodman. My sister and I were wondering if you were going to play 'Sing, Sing, Sing' tonight."

He smiled, relieved that someone had finally requested it. "I suppose it's about time to liven things up," he replied cheerfully, heading closer to the band to speak to them.

As I walked back toward the table, the drummer began pounding out the opening line, and the ballroom broke into applause as everyone recognized the rhythm. As I had hoped, Rosalie brightened up immediately.

Esme, of course, was appalled. She leaned over toward us. "If you two start 'jitterbugging' we're going straight home!" she threatened. _And fix your hair!_

"Don't worry, Mother," I smiled back as I raked my fingers through my hair, "Nobody will be dancing until the dessert is finished." She couldn't help but smile at my term of endearment, and decided not to complain anymore.

_Works every time_, I mouthed behind my hand to Rosalie, who giggled. But we both turned back to the stage as the clarinet solo began.

It was like watching a magician. Benny Goodman's fingers were almost a blur as they danced, creating a sound that was so lyrical, so whimsical that even Esme was watching in rapture. I decided then and there that the clarinet was going to be my next project. When the brass swelled back in, we all applauded and turned back to our meal.

Much to my dismay, Dr. Jensen had noticed my lack of appetite, as well as my spare frame. Just as he was about to comment, I cut a nice chunk off of my meat and tossed it in my mouth, forcing myself to chew the awful stuff. As soon as all four humans were looking the other way, I dabbed my napkin to my mouth, depositing the meat inside it. The waiter soon came to my rescue: a chocolate mousse was brought out, and after a while, couples began drifting out onto the dance floor. Rosalie began receiving dance offers, and politely turned down each one, though her foot was tapping under the table.

"No, it's all right if you want to dance, Rosalie," Carlisle encouraged. "You're got your gloves, haven't you?"

"I just don't feel like it tonight," she said absently as she watched the growing crowd of dancers. _I don't belong out there, anyway. _

"Suit yourself," I said as I stood, tossing my napkin over my food. "Esme?"

She looked up at me, confused. "What?"

I leaned closer and offered her my arm, giving her my most charming smile. "Please?"

_All right, but just one dance. And keep it tame!_ She stood gracefully and left her shawl on her chair. I led her into the crowd and we began swaying gently, completely out of sync with the music.

"Oh, Edward," Esme fussed as she reached up to fix my hair again. I grinned down at her, both of us thinking how glad we were that she had decided not to cut my hair back in '31. I just hoped that slicked-back hair would fall out of style soon.

"Well, I have to admit, this is nice," she said as we danced. The band had slowed it down a notch, and I had almost gotten Esme to keep up with the beat. We had danced together many times, though it was usually in our living room, along with a 78.

"I think you would like Swing, if you gave it a chance. It's much more respectable than Jazz," I promised. She just laughed and laid her head on my shoulder as I hummed along with the music. I got three more than the one dance she had promised me, and Carlisle had finally managed to get Rosalie out onto the dance floor, as well. He was slowly working toward Esme and I, raising his eyebrows at me.

_I want to dance with my wife sometime tonight, you know!_

I nodded and twirled Esme, who laughed when she suddenly found herself in her husband's arms. Rosalie stood awkwardly alone for a moment, wondering what to do. One of the medical students began walking toward her, and she looked back at the table, taking a step back towards it.

"Oh no you don't," I said, slipping my arm around her waist and catching her hand. "You love this song." I glared at the disappointed med student, who slinked off in defeat. Rosalie watched him leave, her thoughts wistful.

"Did you want to dance with him?" I asked, letting my hand fall away.

But she turned back to me. _No, not really. What would be the point?_

I frowned, trying to figure her out. One minute she wants to get too involved with the humans, and now she wouldn't even dance with them. I wished, yet again, that I could read emotions, as well as thoughts.

"Let's just dance, please," she sighed. I put my hand back onto her waist and we caught up with the rhythm, spinning through the crowd with ease.

_Tone it down, son_, Carlisle warned. _You don't want to attract too much attention. _He nodded towards the photographer, who was walking toward us.

"Stop for a moment," I whispered to Rosalie, and we slowed to a walk. The photographer brushed by us in disappointment, and we picked the dancing back up again. For a while, Rosalie seemed happy. She truly loved to dance, and she was as much a fan of big band music as I was. I spun her several times, knowing she loved the feel of her skirt as it twirled around her knees.

"So, you'll come back to school on Monday?" I asked finally, when the moment seemed right.

She shrugged. "Not much else to do, is there?" She peeked back at our table, where baby Carlton was fast asleep in his mother's arms. Dr. Jensen was tapping his foot impatiently, wishing that they had left the baby at home so he could dance. "Maybe if I hold him in Esme's shawl, he would stay asleep," Rosalie mused as she began to pull away from me.

I tightened my grip around her waist. If she held the baby again, there was no telling what mood she would get herself into. "Don't worry about them, Rosalie. If they really wanted to dance, they would have left the baby at home."

She relented and tried to focus on the dance itself, and the energetic crowd around us. _I am not going to spend the evening feeling sorry for myself. I am going to have a good time._

"My thoughts exactly," I smiled, spinning her again.

"I'm sorry about your couch. I'll get you a new one next week."

"Leather, please," I said lightly, teasing another smile out of her.

_I suppose you're a pretty decent brother, as they come._ _I know I can be… difficult, sometimes._

I just smiled at her again. I really did love my sister. And even though she was arguably one of the most difficult people I had ever been around, there were things about her that I truly admired. Her tenacity, for one. And her love of learning, and of music. And her choice to stay with our family, every time the opportunity to leave presented itself. Another way of life had opened up to her this week- one she would have excelled at. But she had chosen to do the right thing, and stay with us.

I slowed my feet down a bit, gazing down at the girl in my arms. I looked past the beauty, past the abrasive habits and the selfishness, to the fragile young woman inside. Rosalie only wanted what every other woman in the room had; a chance at a normal human life. A life like Vera's. A life that probably _would_ have been hers if she hadn't attracted the attention of Royce King. Her dream of having a child was just that: a dream. There was no way for it to ever come true. But to find love… that was a dream that both of us shared, and it wasn't impossible. Would I have to wait three hundred years to find love, like Carlisle did? Would Rosalie?

I stopped dancing completely, slipping my other hand down to join the other around her waist. Had I been too quick to dismiss the possibility? I knew Rosalie much better than I had two years ago; and although she drove me crazy sometimes, I couldn't deny that I was glad to have her in my life. I was stuck with her, regardless. Was I missing something obvious here? Had fate pushed us together, and was she shaking her head at our stubbornness, our refusal to see each other?

I waited until she looked up at me, and I stared into her golden eyes, and into her mind. If my heart would allow me just an ounce of love for this girl, then I would offer it to her gladly. I stared as hard as I could, waiting for it to happen. Willing it to happen.

Nothing.

She frowned up at me. "What?"

I sighed, releasing her from my gaze. "Nothing." The band quieted down and we all turned toward the stage with our applause.

The hotel manager stepped up to the microphone, speaking rapidly. "Well, folks, it's been a fine evening here at the Read House, and you can stop by every night the rest of the month to hear Benny Goodman and his Boys. Let's slow it down now for our final dance, and a real treat it is! I give you Martha Tilton!" He backed off the stage, clapping with the rest of us as the tiny singer floated up to the microphone and nodded to the bandleader.

The brass brought up a mellow sound, and I recognized "Cheek to Cheek", which had become a hit this summer after Fred Astaire had sung it on the silver screen. Rosalie frowned, thinking about returning to the table again; she didn't want to dance this with me. Truthfully, I didn't want to dance it with her either; this was the sort of song I wanted to save for my wife, if she would ever turn up.

But Carlisle and Esme were next to us, and they were looking at Rosalie with such love and relief in their eyes that she turned back to me again. The song was being played at a slower tempo than usual, since it was the last dance, and the mood on the dance floor changed noticeably as the lights dimmed. I pulled Rosalie as close as I could, so that she would stop looking at all the happy couples around us as they began to sway dreamily. But it was too late, and I felt her quiet sobs begin against my chest. I laid my face on her hair and we danced again, two silent hearts painfully alone in a sea of love.


	5. Playing God

I had kept a careful eye on George while Rosalie had been at home. He hadn't done anything that we needed to be concerned about, but he had warned his classmates about Rosalie Cullen's overprotective father. The news had spread throughout the week, much to my satisfaction; anything that kept Rosalie out of trouble was a good thing.

I hadn't realized, though, what was waiting for Rosalie when she returned. She noticed instantly the new coolness that was being projected towards her; the worship stopped instantly and some of the boys actually went out of their way to avoid her. Rosalie discovered quickly that her new "friends" cared little for her intellect; now that she was considered untouchable, they saw no reason to bother with her.

It was _exactly_ what she didn't need. By the time I met up with her in our English class, she was fuming. She slid into her seat and refused to look at me. It was obvious that she thought I was to blame for her sudden drop in popularity.

"I had nothing to do with it," I promised. "This was all George. Though I don't think there was any malice behind it… he's just trying to nurse his ego and save his friends the trouble of crossing Carlisle."

"But this was what you wanted, wasn't it?" she retorted. _For them all to ignore me._

"Not really. I never wanted you to be unhappy." Rosalie watched my eyes for a moment, deciding that I was telling the truth. She relaxed a little, and got out her English notebook.

The other students began to file in, and the girl that had bled on the first day sat in front of us, as she usually did. As she sat down, she pointedly ignored Rosalie, but gave me a long, smiling glance over her shoulder. I answered her with a smile of my own, though it was more sickly than enthusiastic.

Rosalie had noticed, unfortunately. _What was that about?_

I shrugged. "Just the usual," I muttered under my breath, hoping she would drop it. The truth was that the same rumors which had dashed Rosalie's popularity had unfortunately boosted my own. Hearing about Carlisle's old-fashioned strictness had put the boys off, but had drawn the girls in. They had all decided that I came from a "nice, solid family" and that I was even more of a catch than before. I had spent the last week dodging advances; the girl in front of us now was one of the tamer ones. I was more thankful than ever that we were in college, and not high school; there were far fewer admirers for me to contend with, and they generally weren't as silly as their younger counterparts. The few women who had continued on to college tended to be both more intelligent and more serious, though their behavior had deteriorated quite a bit over the past week. It was nothing I couldn't handle, but I knew it would only make my sister more upset if she found out.

So I was especially annoyed at the pair of girls whispering about me over in the corner. Rosalie heard everything they said, and it didn't take her long to realize what was going on.

"Well, I certainly hope _you_ don't get any ideas," she muttered as the professor walked in.

"Don't be absurd," I scoffed. _I_ had no intention of dabbling with human females. It would be a complete waste of my time and theirs, not to mention wrong, for all the reasons that we had given Rosalie.

_You'd never pull it off anyway,_ she thought icily. _You'd probably kill the girl by accident on the first date. _

"It's not going to happen, so it doesn't matter," I hissed, as I began taking notes at a dangerously rapid pace. Rosalie was just trying to get under my skin now; she knew how envious I was of her control. And she was right, of course. The very idea of me being that close to a human girl was ridiculous- I would never jeopardize my family in that way.

_Of course, they'd probably let YOU do it. Esme would flip if you actually showed an interest in someone, regardless of their species. She thinks you're probably incapable of even-_

My pencil shattered in my hand; I had reached my limit. I grabbed my bag and shoved through the rows of desks, muttering something to the professor about how the cafeteria had poisoned me. I heard Rosalie follow behind me, but I kept going; if I had to listen to her screeching thoughts another minute, I was going to attack her right in the hallway. I looked both ways and darted to the nearest exit in less than half a second. Unfortunately, there were several students loitering outside and I was forced to walk at a human pace towards my car.

Rosalie caught up to me almost immediately. We walked in silence until we were around the corner of the next building, and then I spun around to confront her.

"All right, you're got my attention," I growled. "What _did_ Esme say?"

"Oh, never mind," she huffed. "Come on, let's go get you some bear or something. You're cranky."

"I'm not thirsty, Rosalie, I'm _annoyed_. There's a difference. Now tell me."

"I'm sorry, but unlike some people, I don't go around breaking everyone's confidence."

"I did that for your own good! You were acting like a child!"

She rolled her eyes. "And running into the house first to tattle on me wasn't?"

"It's not my fault I'm faster than you are."

_You want to know what Esme said? She said that she's worried that Carlisle changed you too young. She said that you might not be grown-up enough to ever fall in love. And I think she's right- I think you wouldn't know a beautiful woman if she was standing right in front of you. It's a good thing you enjoy being alone so much._

"There's a lot more to a woman than her beauty," I snapped. "If that was all I cared about, I would have-" I clamped my mouth shut, fighting the urge to say what I had been thinking for two years: that if beauty was all that mattered to me, then I would have fallen for Rosalie the instant I had seen her. But I had been so repulsed by her mind from our first meeting, that it just wasn't possible.

"You would have what?" she challenged.

"Nothing."

"You would have what? Say it!" She was doing everything she could not to cry now; I didn't even need to speak to hurt her anymore. _You would have fallen in love with me. But you think beauty is all I have, don't you?_

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "That is _not_ what I was thinking, Rosalie. If you would just-"

She just shook her head and took off down the street. _Just stay away. For once in your life, just stay away from me._

I watched her go, torn between anger and shame. I couldn't _believe_ that I had, only three nights ago, held this girl in my arms, _trying_ to fall in love with her. Of all the idiotic ideas! Rosalie was the _opposite_ of the kind of girl I wanted to fall in love with. I kicked angrily at a stone, crushing it to gray crumbs instead of sending it flying like I had wanted to. I sank down to sit in the dirt, idly picking up the few chunks that had survived, and crushing them between my thumb and index finger.

Esme wouldn't really have said that, would she? Perhaps she had said it to make Rosalie feel better during one of her tantrums. To console her, or to excuse my utter failure to react like a normal man. But there was no mistaking the memory that Rosalie had thrown in my face. She and Esme had been out hunting alone, and it looked they like had been talking calmly, sitting in a tree after they had fed. What _else_ had Esme said about me? Why had I even come up that way in their conversation?

I stood and dug my toe in the pile of gray powder that the stone had left behind. I was _not_ too young. I _had_ been blown away by Rosalie's beauty; she just hadn't been conscious at the time. And the Denali sisters had certainly gotten my attention, until I had heard their brazen thoughts. It wasn't that I was too _young. _It was just that I was too _telepathic._ If it weren't for this blasted mind-reading…

No, that wasn't true. It wouldn't have taken long for me to lose interest in all of them, regardless. There was nothing wrong with being fastidious. And it had been wrong of me to think I could offer Rosalie any sort of love; I saw that now. Besides the fact that she would see right through me, it would have been unfaithful to… to her.

When I had finally come to my senses in 1931, and seen myself for the monster that I was, I had come to the conclusion that I would never find love; I simply didn't deserve it. But eventually I had remembered that even some the most "evil" vampires had found their mate. And it had also occurred to me that the woman I might marry one day might be a traditional vampire. I sincerely hoped not, but I knew the odds. The fact that the Volturi had been intrigued by Carlisle's choice meant that they had never encountered it before; for all I knew, we and the Denalis were the only vegetarians in the world. If my mate had already been transformed, she was probably slaughtering humans this very minute. Of course, her sin could never have been as great as my own. I had _known_ better than to murder, and I had still chosen to do it. Perhaps I would be the one to show her that there was another way. I would teach her how to hunt animals, and I would watch in wonder as her eyes slowly changed to match my own. I would rescue her…

It didn't matter whether my mate existed yet or not; I was already in love with her. I thought about her every day, and I often wondered what she was doing right now, in some far corner of the vampire world. I even wrote music about her. The "stupid song" that I had been annoying Rosalie with was one of these. Each verse was dedicated to something about my future wife; her kindness, her selflessness, her purity. I tried not to get too specific in my mind, and I never used words in my compositions; it wouldn't do to make up too many details.

But I was getting ahead of myself. Right now I had my sister to worry about, and in my musings I hadn't even noticed which way she had gone. That was probably for the best; if I had followed her, no doubt I would have just put my foot in my mouth again. I picked up my bag and headed back to class.

.

.

.

I arrived home that afternoon to find that Rosalie was still away. We tried not to worry; she had stayed out like this before. And she did turn up the next morning, just in time to ride to school with me. But over the next few weeks, she spent less and less time at home. She sometimes stayed out for days at a time, and sometimes when she returned, we could tell that she hadn't even hunted. And when she _was_ home, she was spending less time in the garage and more time alone in her room. As she grew more depressed, I was relieved that she didn't miss school too often. She threw what little energy she had into her studies, shocking her professors with her genius. I wanted to tell her to tone it down, for safety's sake, but I didn't have the heart to say the words. School was the one thing that seemed to give her any joy; and besides, everything I said to her lately seemed to offend her, anyway. She eventually stopped riding with me to and from school; there were days when the only time I saw her was in English class.

Carlisle and Esme were also at a loss as to what to say to her. I sometimes found them comparing Rosalie's odd behavior to my own, just before I had left them. But it was obvious that Rosalie wasn't struggling with her thirst. If anything, we were worried about her _lack_ of thirst.

So we were all relieved when I heard her decide to go on a weekend hunt in early October. Her favorite prey was black bear, and she wanted to head further east than usual in order to find several at once. Esme offered to go with her, hoping that they would have to chance to talk. But Rosalie had politely refused, tossing me an angry glance after Esme had turned away. _And I'm not planning anything naughty, so don't bother._ I just frowned, swallowing the insult that came to mind. Would she _ever_ forgive me for that?

The next morning, all three of us sighed in guilty relief when she was gone, thinking how nice it would be to have a two-day break from the awkwardness. We all loved Rosalie dearly, but we had all been walking on eggshells every time she was home lately.

"I don't know what we can do," Carlisle said sadly as he turned back toward the house. "She's getting even more unhappy now."

"Perhaps a new project," Esme suggested. "She always has your and Edward's cars to work on, but she's never really had her own."

"You might be onto something," Carlisle answered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I might see what's for sale tomorrow after work."

"Get something fast," Esme said.

"No, something old," I put in. "I think she's lost interest partially because of the fact that our cars are already in good shape. She might like to fix up an old one for a change."

"Old and fast," Carlisle grinned. "Got it."

I was getting excited, and the car wasn't even for me. I held up my hand, getting my father's attention again. "Of course, the older the car, the slower it will run. Maybe you should-"

"All right, Edward," Carlisle laughed. "I get the hint. You can come with me."

I grinned back at him, and we agreed to meet after his shift ended the next morning. I had been planning on skipping school that day, anyway: our Biology class was going to be blood typing.

But Carlisle never even made it to work. I was in the garage around five o'clock, reading one of Rosalie's automotive magazines, when I heard her frantic thoughts suddenly burst into my mind.

_ -the east, hurry! Edward… hear me? I need Carlisle to… can! It's an emergency! EDWARD! I need Carlisle to meet me, I'm coming from the east…_

I leapt up and shot into the kitchen, calling for my parents. In less than two seconds, I had explained Rosalie's message and the three of us were sprinting through the woods. I focused intently on Rosalie's mentally voice as I ran, her thoughts growing more clear with every step I took.

_Edward, have Carlisle meet me, hurry! I'm coming from the east. His pulse is slowing down… EDWARD! Where are they? I don't think I can do it! Please, please!_

She finally looked down, and instead of the blur of trees she was running through, I saw him: she was carrying a man in her arms, and the blood-

I stumbled in my shock, and my parents both slammed into me, sending all three of us to the ground with a loud crash. Carlisle's med kit tumbled out of his hand; he had grabbed it on his way out the door, on instinct.

Carlisle frowned as he scrambled back to his feet, picking his bag up again. "Edward, what on earth-"

"Shh!" I held up my hand, closing my eyes to focus on what Rosalie was showing me. "She's about a mile off," I said quickly. "She's carrying a human, and he's injured."

Carlisle drew in his breath sharply as he imagined several scenarios at once. Had Rosalie finally slipped and attacked a human while she was hunting? Had she gone back on her word and gotten too close to a human man? Had she seen a dying man in the woods and taken pity on him? Was her venom already flowing through his veins?

"It doesn't matter," I interrupted. "Let's go." We took off again, reaching Rosalie in forty seconds. She was quite a sight. Her hair was wild and blood was smeared all over her blouse and arms. Her eyes were pitch black and I winced as I registered her raging thirst, as it combined with my own.

But the man was in worse shape, much worse. He had four huge gashes torn down the front of his torso, and his left arm was practically shattered. His face was torn in several places as well. The warm aroma of bear saliva was mingled with that of his blood.

He was a bear of a man, himself. If he had been standing, he would have had at least three inches on me, and he looked to be twice my size. But his powerful build was hardly impressive in his current state. He dangled limply from Rosalie's arms, and he was so close to death that he was hardly bleeding anymore. His pulse was thready and irregular; his heart was in a state of confusion, trying to pump what little blood it could find in order to keep his brainstem alive. His breathing was quite shallow and rasping, as the bear's claws had obviously punctured his right lung.

Carlisle raced up to his daughter, helping her ease the man onto the ground. "What happened?" he asked as his eyes darted over the man's body.

"Black bear," she said in a strangled voice, swallowing her venom as it continued to flow. "It was chewing on his arm when I got there. He was still conscious then, but he passed out sixty miles ago."

"Sixty _miles?" _I gasped. How on earth had she managed to carry him that far without feeding from him? The brachial artery had been completely severed in the left arm; it would have been pumping out fresh arterial blood while she was running. How had she-

"I found him up by Gatlinburg," she said frantically. "At first I thought I could stop the bleeding, but it just wouldn't… wouldn't…." She screwed her eyes shut, turning away from him as the memory raked at her throat. "Carlisle, please! Can't you do something?"

Carlisle had his hand on the good wrist, frowning at the weak blood pressure and obvious arrhythmias. He laid his other hand on the man's chest, feeling the wet vibrations as he struggled weakly for breath. He sighed, rocking back onto his heels. "No. I'm sorry, Rosalie, but it's too late."

She spun around, her thirst forgotten for the moment. "Too late? But his heart is still beating!"

He released the man's wrist, and stood up, wiping the blood on his slacks. "He can't be saved, Rosalie. Even if I managed to get enough blood back into him, he would be a vegetable. I'm sorry, but your trip was in vain."

"No, I know he can't be saved _that_ way. I want you to save him the _other_ way."

_What? She wants me to change him? But I thought she hated this life! _"Rosalie… think about what you're saying. You're asking me to _change_ him."

"Yes!" she shrieked. "You've got to hurry! His heart isn't going to hold out much longer."

"He would become a vampire, Rosalie! I know you wouldn't have chosen this life. Can you honestly ask me to give him the same?"

Rosalie knelt down, tenderly running her fingers through the man's black curls. _Just like Henry. He can't die! It's wrong, it's wrong. But it's also wrong to change him. What if he hates me for this?_ The image of Vera's angelic child rose in her thoughts, twisting until it was replaced by the face of the man lying before us. She closed her eyes, her options warring in her mind. _This is the most selfish thing I've ever done… but I just can't let Henry die! Not him!_

"That's not Henry, Rosalie," I said gently. "It's a human whose time has come. Just let him go."

"No! I cant!" She reached up to Carlisle, grabbing his wrist with her blood-smeared hand. "Carlisle, _please! _If you do this for me, I'll never ask you for anything again! Just save him!"

He shook his head. "No. I'm not going to do that again. I am _not_ going to play God again." _I'm not going to ruin another life like I ruined hers._

Rosalie released him, looking down again at her new Henry. "I'll do it, then," she said hesitantly, working up her determination. She reached out to his shirt collar, trying to decide the best way to bite him.

I grabbed her hand before she could do it. "Don't, Rosalie. You'll only kill him faster. You know you will."

She resisted me for a moment, but gave way as she realized that I was right. I saw in her thoughts that she had thought about trying it earlier, once she had realized that he couldn't be saved; but then, as now, the thirst had stopped her. She didn't have _that_ much control. Even the thought of bringing her mouth down to his neck made her shudder.

"Carlisle, _please_," she repeated, looking up at him again. "Please, for me."

Carlisle took a step back, frowning. "No."

But she could tell he was weakening already. She stood up and looked pleadingly at our father. "Please," she said again. "I know that I haven't always been… grateful. For what you did for me. But I _am_ grateful, and I've never asked for anything… not really. I just _need_ this."

Carlisle didn't need my gift to see the unspoken promise in her eyes: _If you do this, I'll forgive you. _

He looked down at the dying man again, picturing him as a vampire. He was imagining him as Rosalie's mate, and I saw the same picture echoed in Esme's mind. In fact, the picture was eerily similar to the one Esme had envisioned while Rosalie was changing; the only difference was that now I had been replaced by "Henry".

"Not again," I moaned. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?"

Carlisle just looked over at me uncertainly. _This is different. She's asking me to do it!_

I shook my head. "Not because of that. And what about what _he_ wants?"

"You can hear him?"

"No, he's too far gone. You can't get his consent, any more than you got ours."

Carlisle winced, just slightly; he hadn't missed the bitterness in my voice. I had never once complained about what Carlisle had done to me, but he knew what I thought about the subject. But he looked over and saw Esme's hopeful face; she wanted him to try, for Rosalie's sake. That was all it took.

"All right," he said, more in defeat than in agreement. "I'll try. But I can't promise it will work; his heart is far weaker than yours was, Rosalie."

She nodded. "I understand. Please, hurry!"

I shook my head, stepping between my father and the dying man. "You can't possibly think this is a good idea," I said in protest. "Look how huge he is! He's going to be nearly impossible to control!"

_But this is the one she wants. _"Edward, move aside, please."

I hesitated for just a moment, but I could see there would be no changing his mind. I backed away, mentally preparing myself for the fresh blood that was about to flow right in front of me. Rosalie and Esme backed away as well, and we all took a deep, final breath.

Carlisle knelt down, and I watched in morbid fascination as he quickly tore away the man's shirt collar. I had never seen him change anybody but Esme, and I hadn't seen him bite me, either; I had also been minutes away from death. As Carlisle ran his hands gently over the man's neck, his venom began to flow in anticipation, and I clenched my fists against my own thirst as I heard him think about which blood vessels he should hit first.

He took a deep breath, and lowered his mouth to the jugular vein. He was afraid to use the carotid artery; he wanted to minimize the extra blood that would be lost, and he knew it would make his own thirst easier to bear. He bit as gently as he could, trembling with effort as the blood touched his mouth. I felt the taste in my own mind a millisecond later, and my muscles ached with the desire to run and throw Carlisle off, to take the prize for myself. My mouth filled with venom as the delicious memories of my years of drinking human blood burst over me. For a moment, I thought I might need to leave. But my concern for my mother and sister overcame my thirst; I looked over at them, relieved to see their minds focused with worry instead of desire. Carlisle was moving on quickly now, biting the man's wrist and ankles. He didn't bother with the left arm; there was hardly any blood flow there to begin with.

As soon as it was done, he threw himself backwards away from the body, dragging his sleeve across his mouth as his disgust defeated his desire, for the fourth time in his long life. I marveled at his enormous control; his eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them and he could barely think past the taste that was lingering on his tongue; this was more difficult than it had been with Esme. When he had bitten her, he had been so overcome by love and the terrible possibility of losing her that the taste had barely registered.

We all waited, frozen as we watched to see if the venom would do its magic. Carlisle was unsure whether it was too late; while we had deliberated, the man's pulse had slowed to a crawl. After the added injury of the bites, his heart faltered even more with the new loss of blood. But the bites themselves were already beginning to heal, and we all let out a collective breath as the sound of his pulse began to grow louder; the venom had reached the heart.

"It's working," Carlisle announced. "Wait, I have an idea." He opened the med kit now, fishing through the contents at vampire speed until he found a syringe and a small bottle of morphine. He drew out twice the normal dosage, and easily slid the needle into a vein in the man's arm. _I wonder if this will help. I wonder if he would need more. He must be three hundred pounds... but I don't want to risk overdoing it. _As he withdrew the needle, his hand shook slightly.

"Are you all right?" I asked Carlisle.

He just nodded, swallowing the last of his venom and looking up at his wife. "Esme, would you run home and call the hospital and the school? Tell them both that we have an early case of the flu, and that it may be a few days before any of us feel up to venturing out."

Esme began to walk away, but stopped. "Wait. Aren't we going to move him to the house?"

Carlisle glanced at me. "No, I don't think that would be wise. We're going to keep him out here." _You were right about one thing, Edward. He's going to be quite strong; too strong for the house at first. _"Our house is too close to other humans," he said aloud. "And before you come back, run into town and buy several sets of clothes for him, and shoes. And bring some old towels, as well."

Esme reached down, measuring the man's foot with her hands, and scurried away. Rosalie finally let herself breathe again and came closer, watching in awe at the obvious improvement that the venom was already bringing. Carlisle crawled back over beside the shattered left arm, surveying the damage. _I'm not sure if even the venom can repair this. _"Edward, give me a hand with this. We need to get the structures back in place so the venom can work."

"Might be easier to manage him without that arm," I muttered.

_Edward, come on. I need your support here._

I sighed and knelt down beside him. Following his mental instructions, I did my best to reassemble the bones of the forearm and wrist, holding them in place while he carefully brought the torn brachial artery back together with one hand, and the shattered humerus with the other. We sat motionless, our hands inside his arm while we waited. It was fascinating to watch the venom work inside the arm; it was a sight that none of us had ever seen before. As the venom self-propagated, its silvery fingers spread throughout the damaged limb, and Carlisle eventually released the blood vessels as they coated themselves with their new armor. Once the circulation was restored, the change began to happen more quickly in the surrounding tissues. I held the bones for a bit longer, finally letting go as soon they audibly fused back together.

The torn muscles rebuilt themselves easily, and in less than an hour, the limb was whole. Our patient was breathing easily now, and as the venom began working inside his oxygen-deprived brain, I began to see brief snatches of memories. I saw flashes of the forest, and a cabin in the woods, and heard a woman's voice singing a lilting tune. After several minutes went by, the images became clearer, and I raised my eyebrows as I saw the man's vivid memories of the women he had slept with, and the raucous laughter of his companions as they drank together.

"You certainly know how to pick them, Carlisle," I said sarcastically.

Carlisle frowned. "What?"

"Nothing. Oh- now he's remembering you, Rosalie." My sister's face appeared, surrounded by a halo of soft light. It must have been when Rosalie had first found him; there was no blood on her in the memory, and her hair was in place. Our patient's mind was gradually waking up, and I heard the first conscious thought: _angel._

"He thinks you're an angel, Rosalie," I said, looking up at her.

She just smiled, her eyes trained on his face. The venom had already repaired the damage to his skin, but it was still hard to see his features underneath all the dried blood. She reached over to touch his hair again. _It's okay, baby. You're going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you. _Her expression was one I had never seen on her before, and I couldn't place it at first. But then I realized that it was an expression I usually associated with Esme. Rosalie was looking _maternal. _How odd.

A few minutes later, he began to feel the pain. At first he just furrowed his brow, but as the pain quickly grew in his mind, his eyes suddenly popped open, and he gasped when he saw Rosalie again. _The angel! She's real? _He looked around, and his eyes found Carlisle. They were both shimmering in the last rays of the sunset, and he squinted in disbelief as he looked between the two of them several times. Then he remembered the bear attack. _Straight to Hell, then. Figures. But why are God and the angel down here? And I always thought he would have a beard. Oh… oh, OW!_

I laughed out loud, even as the man winced in pain again. Carlisle frowned at me, but I couldn't help it. "He thinks you're God, Carlisle. He's rather disappointed that you don't have a beard."

Carlisle's lips twitched up in a smile, as well. _How fitting. Although it's clear that I was too late with the morphine. What a shame._

"You're not in Hell," I told the man. But I saw no evidence that he could hear me; I could see the flames as he pictured them.

Carlisle opened his mouth to begin the explanation, but I stopped him. "Don't bother, Carlisle. He can't-"

I was interrupted as the man let out his first gasp of pain, which quickly turned into a blood-curdling scream. His back began to arch weakly, and his hands scrambled over the ground as he tried to climb out of the fiery pit. _It burns, it burns! Get me out! Help!_ His eyes opened again and he looked around in panic. _This doesn't look like Hell. What's going on?_

"You're not in Hell," I repeated, and this time he turned toward the sound of my voice. _Another angel? Or a demon?_

Carlisle began to speak, briefly explaining what had happened and why the pain was so bad. But the man just shut his eyes again, resigning himself to the flames. He began yelling again, and this time he jerked so hard that he rolled over onto his face. We gently turned him back over, but he began thrashing his arms and legs. He was quickly gaining strength, and it wasn't long before I was using both hands to hold his shoulders down.

I looked up at Carlisle, who shared my worry. _It's too early for him to be this strong. Something's wrong._ _Edward was stronger than the women almost immediately, but this…_

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. At that moment, the man's leg shot out, kicking Carlisle in the chest and sending him flying backwards. He landed against a nearby tree, snapping it right in half.

I just stared in disbelief. What had we just gotten ourselves into?


	6. Newborn

The man's strength was growing at an alarming rate. By the time Esme returned, we had given up all hope of restraining him and were standing several feet away.

Esme came to a stop and deposited the clothes, shoes and towels on the ground. "What's the matter with him?" she asked, jumping back as he flung an arm out towards her.

"I don't know," Carlisle said worriedly. "The venom is definitely working, but I've never seen anyone this strong during early transition before. He's almost as strong as you or Rosalie, now."

"But it's only been three hours!"

"I know." _Was this a mistake? Are we going to be able to control him at all?_

"Maybe there isn't anything wrong with him," Rosalie said. "Carlisle, is there such a thing as a strength talent?"

"You mean like a supernatural gift?"

"Yes."

He thought for a moment, reviewing all his past conversations with Aro and Eleazar. "I've never heard of such a thing. But that doesn't mean it isn't possible." Another memory flickered in his mind, then: two huge vampires I had never seen him think about before.

"Who are they?" I asked.

Carlisle frowned. "They worked for the Volturi back in the 1700s, when I was visiting. They always keep a few of their type around, mainly for their brute strength. Though I don't recall Aro ever referring to their strength as being due to a particular gift."

I grimaced as he remembered the one thing that the pair was best at: dismembering other vampires. I stepped out of the clearing, motioning for Carlisle to follow me. I waited to speak until we were far enough so that Rosalie couldn't hear us. "There's still time to stop this," I said quietly. "I can do it for you, if you like."

Carlisle looked at me in shock. "No! It would have been one thing to let him die, but killing him ourselves… absolutely not!"

"He wouldn't even feel it. Just think about it, Carlisle. If he's this strong _now_, he's going to be a disaster when he wakes up. If we can't contain him…"

Carlisle looked back toward the clearing nervously, imagining the same scenario I was: the newborn escaping us, wreaking havoc on the town. Having to dismember him in front of the humans, if we were even able to catch him. Or worse yet, the Volturi having to get involved if we couldn't handle our creation ourselves.

"I am _not_ going to kill him, and neither are you," he said firmly. "We'll just have to manage."

An odd cracking sound came from the clearing, and we rushed back to find that the man had rolled over and kicked a tree; it was still falling when we arrived. An oak, over two hundred years old. The tree was going to land on him, and Rosalie ran over, dragging him out of the way just in time. He twisted around, snarling and clawing at her in his madness. She screamed in pain and leapt away, cradling one of her hands in the other. Carlisle rushed to her side and gasped in shock; one of Rosalie's fingers had been broken and was twisted at an odd angle.

"Carlisle," I growled.

_No. Don't speak of it again, Edward. I will NOT do that to her. _ _And it would be wrong to kill him just because things might be difficult. _I just sighed in frustration, moving to stand well away from the tornado of flesh and blood that was rolling around the clearing. Why didn't anyone ever listen to me?

Rosalie gasped in pain as Carlisle forced her finger back into place. "We all need to give him some space," he said simply.

There was little else we could do. Esme desperately wanted to clean him up, but Carlisle wouldn't let her try. As the night wore on, three more trees were felled by his uncoordinated thrashing. Finally around dawn, he lay still for awhile, panting and exhausted. His lungs had proved to be as strong as his limbs, but after that many hours of yelling, his voice had finally given out.

Carlisle used this opportunity to go through the explanation again, while Esme and I worked to clear the fallen trees away. "And please, try to lie still," he said in conclusion. " I know that it hurts, and I promise that the pain will end." His patient seemed to understand most of the words; he stopped rolling around and he seemed to be trying to control the movements of his limbs. But the pain continued to increase, and the screaming began again by the time the sun had peeked over the trees.

I was able to hear a continuous stream of consciousness now – though his thoughts were nearly as uncoordinated as his movements. Sometime in the early afternoon, I finally got what I had been looking for. I saw a priest shaking his finger and say in a scolding voice: "Mark my words, Emmett McCarty, if you continue on this reckless path, you'll find yourself burning in the flames of God's wrath before long!"

"Emmett McCarty!" I announced suddenly. "His name's Emmett."

"Emmett," Rosalie whispered, turning the word over in her mind. _Emmett Cullen._

Emmett stopped thrashing suddenly, his cries turning to moans as he listened for the angel to speak again.

"He likes the sound of your voice," I told Rosalie. "Keep talking."

She inched closer, speaking in soothing tones. "I know it hurts, Emmett. But I promise it will be over before too long. My name is Rosalie. I'm going to stay right here."

He quieted even more, and Rosalie kept speaking for several hours. She told him about where we lived, and all about our family. She promised him that we would help him in his new life, and that he would never be alone. When she ran out of things to say about us, she began describing the surrounding forest; that especially seemed to relax him. More memories rose to the front of his mind: fond memories of hunting with his grandfather and his father. I saw him helping maintain the cabin, and working on salted meats and hides; it seemed there was more to Emmett than just loose living.

But as we approached the evening, the pain became unbearable, and even Rosalie's voice wasn't enough to stop Emmett from screaming. The thrashing grew even stronger, and his hands and feet began to cut huge gashes in the ground. Dirt was flying every time his body jerked, and his screams shifted into ear-splitting roars. Esme and Rosalie were nearly weeping with pity, and Carlisle just stood by uselessly, staring in fear as his creation grew impossibly stronger. After a while, Emmett had torn up the ground so badly that he found himself in a ditch of his own creation, which suited us just fine; it kept him from knocking down new trees, and it kept him in one place.

As the second night went on, the ditch turned into a huge pit, and we just reached in occasionally to scoop out enough dirt so that Emmett wasn't suffocating himself. We were beginning to worry that he would be heard; we didn't think any humans would be nearby, but his howling was getting ridiculously loud.

Rosalie leaned over the edge of the pit, raising her voice above the din. "Emmett! Please, try not to yell so loud. We don't want to get in trouble."

To our immense relief, he listened to her. The sound instantly reduced, and he clenched his teeth, focusing on staying quieter even as he pounded the earthen walls of his prison, his spasms still totally out of control.

"Well, I'll be," Carlisle said in awe.

"Could've tried that sooner," I muttered, but Rosalie ignored me. She was just staring at Emmett, as she had been staring since the change had begun. It was still difficult to see what he really looked like; dirt had coated most of his body now, sticking to the blood, and he had torn his clothes half to shreds. Carlisle felt terrible that we couldn't clean him up, but at least we had the final hours of paralysis to look forward to. After that, things were going to get a lot more complicated.

The ditch had deepened by seven more feet by the time the sun rose. We were all relieved to see that Emmett was beginning to weaken, and Rosalie was able to calm him further now that he was quiet enough to listen to her again. By late morning, he was too exhausted to fight any longer, and he lay at the bottom of the hole, trembling in pain and begging us to kill him. I was finally able to convince him that I could read his mind, and I was able to get a broken conversation going between him and Rosalie. His comprehension hadn't improved much; one minute he was mentally telling her about his family, and the next minute he would start babbling nonsense, or repeating the Lord's prayer frantically. He had slowly pieced together the explanation that Carlisle and Rosalie had been repeating over and over. He knew by now what was happening to him, but he didn't believe that the pain would ever end. He had created an elaborate fantasy in which he was burning in Hell, surrounded by demon vampires. But there was a window in Hell's wall, through which he could see Rosalie, glowing in her angelic glory: she had been sent by the blonde God to visit him in his torment. In a way, he didn't want the pain to end; he was afraid that Rosalie would disappear if that were to happen.

"She won't leave you. And you're _not_ in Hell," I said for the fourteenth time. "You are lying on the ground, in the forest, one hundred miles southwest of Gatlinburg. No, she's not going to leave you, I promise. It will be over soon."

He finally began to cry, terrified as he began to realize that he was losing the ability to move his hands. The pain was receding from his fingertips now; in his fantasy, he was standing at the window, holding his hand up to touch the icy-cold window that Rosalie was hidden behind.

Esme's heart was breaking for him. "Please, Carlisle, let me go to him," she pleaded. _I can't stand to watch him down there, so alone and filthy. If I could just wash his face, or hold his hand!_

"No, wait a bit longer," Carlisle replied.

We watched as Emmett's tremors eventually slowed to a stop, and when only his head and neck were trembling, Carlisle and I jumped down into the pit beside him, and brought him out. Esme jumped into action, motioning for us to bring him closer to the stream she had found. She bathed all the skin she could access, and then she and Rosalie stepped away while Carlisle and I finished cleaning him up and dressed him in the new clothes. He was completely paralyzed now, and I tried to explain why his heart was beginning to race. When the women returned, they made a pallet for him on the forest floor, using fallen pine branches and a pillow made from some of the extra clothes.

Rosalie sat down beside him and held his hand as we entered the third night. I had never seen her like this before; she was completely dedicated to comforting Emmett in his torment. She never took her eyes off his face; we could finally see what he looked like now, and Esme had washed his hair, which took back its curl as it dried. His features were boyish, but quite handsome now; we would probably never know what he had looked like as a human.

It was the rest of his body that worried me, though. His muscular build had only grown with the change; he was quite intimidating now. His hands were _huge_, and I could only imagine what damage he was going to with them when he woke up.

"I have an idea," Esme said suddenly. "Something that might make the beginning easier. Instead of taking him hunting when he wakes up, why don't we bring the blood to him? It might keep him from running off, and it will give him an early liking for animal blood."

We all praised her idea, and Esme was appointed to fetch Emmett's first meal; she would go out later, when he was nearer the end.

Carlisle began to speak to Emmett again. "Emmett, this is Carlisle. I want you to focus on what I'm saying, because it's very important. When your heart is done beating, you will wake up, and the pain will be gone. But you are going to be very, very strong, and it's important that you stay right here with us. You are going to be thirsty for blood; we are going to bring you some animals to drink from. Do you understand? When you wake up, you need to stay here with us. We are going to help you, Emmett. It's going to be all right." He looked up at me, silently asking whether his words had gotten through.

"I think he understands," I said uncertainly. "Emmett, listen. Rosalie is going to stay with you. Don't run away from her, all right? Stay with Rosalie."

I got no response, mental or otherwise; Emmett's mind was focused on his racing heart. There was nothing to do but wait now. Carlisle and I repeated the instructions a few more times, and when his heart picked up its pace even more, Esme left to get the animals. I smiled at the thought of our mother finally getting to go "grocery shopping" for one of her children. I could easily imagine her sitting on the edge of a human child's bed, spoon-feeding him some chicken soup. "Get something good," I called to her as she ran off.

Rosalie reached up and began to stroke Emmett's face with the back of her hand. "It's almost over," she promised. "Just a little longer, and then everything will be all right, as long as you stay with me." _I hope he doesn't hate me for this. I don't think I could stand it. Please, God, let him understand._

I watched my sister curiously. Her feelings toward Emmett were beginning to alter; I wasn't able to measure her actual emotions, but it seemed that her maternal devotion was quickly turning into infatuation. She was entranced by Emmett's face, and she was beginning to fret about how he would perceive her when he awoke.

"Don't worry," I assured her. "You're the angel, remember?"

She finally looked up, as if she had completely forgotten that I was there. Her hand crept up to her hair and she gasped in horror: her hair was still tangled and stiff with the blood that had been in it for three days. "I'll be right back, Emmett," she said gently. "I'll be right back." She leapt up and lowered herself into the stream, washing her hair and her clothes all at once. I just shook my head; only Rosalie.

She was back at his side in two minutes, dripping wet as she kept one hand on his face while she combed out her hair with the other. She looked up at me worriedly. _Do I look all right?_

"You look fine, Rosalie."

Carlisle just gazed at his daughter in satisfaction. _This is going well. I've never seen her like this before._

An odd yelping sound made us all look up; Esme had returned. To our amusement, she was hauling a live black bear in each hand, holding them by the scruff of their necks. By the subdued confusion on their faces, it seemed she had dragged them quite a long way. She grinned back at us and shrugged. "I thought he might like a little revenge," she said simply. Rosalie laughed, a beautiful, gentle sound I had never heard from her before. Who was this girl, and where was my sister?

We didn't have to wait long. Emmett's heart was racing now, and we all backed away as the final _thud_ sounded. "I'm right here," Rosalie said nervously.

Emmett lay still for three more seconds, and then he leapt straight into the air, landing in an attack crouch and looking around frantically with his bright red eyes. W_here is she?_

But his nose twitched, and his head whipped to the side. He spotted the bears, and as the thirst roared to life, I grabbed my own throat and cried out in pain along with him. His thirst was far, far more intense than any of ours had been. Esme released the bears, giving them a shove toward Emmett. In their agitation, they reared up in anger. Emmett pounced as Esme jumped out of the way, and the first bear was sucked dry before its eyes were closed. He spun around to find the other one, which had begun to retreat. He leapt forward with a terrifying roar, shoving the bear into the dirt so hard that a new crater was formed. After he had fed, he lifted his head and gasped in relief. "More," he snarled, looking around again. He finally spotted Rosalie, who was backing further away. "Rosalie," he whispered, and stood up, blinking.

"Yes, I'm here," she said carefully, unsure whether it was safe to approach him or not. She took a deep breath and began to inch forward, holding her hand out to him.

But his eyes scrunched shut, and his hands tore at his throat. "More, I need MORE!" he shouted.

"All right," Carlisle said soothingly. "Let's get some more. We're going to take you hunting for more bears now. Emmett nodded, staring at Carlisle in wonder. "Stay with us. Don't run off," Carlisle warned.

Emmett couldn't wait any longer. He jumped into a sprint, and before long I was the only one keeping pace with him. "You need to slow down!" I shouted from beside him. "Rosalie can't run this fast!"

_Rosalie. _He slowed a bit, and the others caught up.

"To the southeast," Carlisle murmured, and we all took off together. I kept my gift thrown as wide as possible, making sure that we stayed clear of any stray hunters. We were lucky to find another pair of bears before long, and another ten miles in, a small herd of white-tailed deer. Emmett tore through the deer with such ferocity that I began to wonder if his thirst would _ever_ be satisfied. But after the fifth one, he didn't run again; he just sat down in the dirt, staring at the pile of carcasses around him.

"So… a vampire, huh?"

Rosalie approached him carefully, and his eyes lit up as she sat down beside him. She tore a length of fabric off the end of her skirt, and he froze into a statue as she gently began to wipe the animal's blood off of his chin. _The angel._

"Yes, you're a vampire now, just like us. But we're not evil, Emmett. Our family doesn't kill humans for-"

"Rosalie!" I barked in warning. Was she utterly insane?!

Emmett's eyes grew wide, and he suddenly realized how unsatisfying the flavor in his mouth was. "Human blood," he said, experimentally. The words burned his throat as they exited, and he leapt to his feet, snarling with desire.

Carlisle held his hands up, taking a cautious step toward our newborn. "No, Emmett," he said firmly. "It is wrong to do that. I know you feel thirsty for it, but I want you to resist. You can have as many animals as you want-"

But it was too late. Emmett grabbed his throat again, and I shook my head in wonder; it was as if he had never fed. He shot away from us, sniffing the air as he ran aimlessly, searching for the scent that his thirst was demanding. I followed at my top speed, determined to stop him; if he kept running in that direction, he would run smack into Ducktown in less than twenty miles.

"Emmett, stop!" I yelled as I began to catch up. "Rosalie wants to talk to you!"

_Rosalie. Blood. Rosalie. Blood!_ He slowed just enough, and I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I landed on his upper back, holding on for dear life. He clawed at me furiously, unable to get a grip on my feet as he stumbled around, trying to stay upright. He slammed backwards in a boulder, thinking it would dislodge me. But I was determined to stay on his back; I knew that if he got me in front of him, I was going to lose a limb, or worse. The boulder exploded as we crashed into it.

"GET OFF ME!" He bellowed. He tried again to pull my arms away from his throat, but his hands were still slippery with the deer's blood. I saw his decision to try pulling me off by my hair, and I leaned my head back just in time. As soon as he moved his hands away, I laid my teeth on the back of his neck, and he froze instinctively.

"You can't win," I lied. "I can read your thoughts, remember? I don't want to hurt you, Emmett. I'm trying to help you. I know you don't want to hurt anyone. Rosalie doesn't want you to hurt anyone."

_Rosalie._ I felt his shoulders begin to relax. "Good. It's all right, Emmett," I soothed. "Rosalie will be here in a minute. Sit down, and I'll let you go." He sat, and I released him.

The rest of the family finally reached us then. Rosalie nodded her thanks to me and sat down in front of Emmett again, speaking in soothing tones as he relaxed further.

He finally looked up sheepishly at the rest of us. "Sorry about that," he grunted. He glanced at me nervously, and I hid my smile; he seemed to think that I really could have killed him with my "superpowers". I wasn't going to correct _that_ misconception anytime soon.

"It's quite all right," Carlisle said easily. "It's difficult at first, I know. But it will get easier. And you can have animals as often as you like."

"But they don't taste… right," Emmett protested, making a face.

"It'll get better," Rosalie promised.

Carlisle introduced everyone again, and Emmett nodded to each of us in turn. He noticed that Carlisle and Esme always stood close together.

"Carlisle and Esme are married," I explained. "Rosalie and I consider them to be our mother and father. Carlisle changed the rest of us, as he did you."

He frowned, looking at me now with suspicion. "No," I said quickly. "Rosalie is a sister to me, nothing more."

_Good_, he thought smugly. He turned back to his angel, his grimace breaking into a handsome smile, and Rosalie caught her breath. "You're the one that saved me," he said in awe.

"You're not… angry?" she asked carefully. "That I wanted you to be like us?"

He shrugged. "If _you're_ a vampire, it can't be that bad, can it?" He reached down and picked up a fist-sized rock, and shattered it between two of his fingers. _Nope, not bad at all._ His grin grew larger, and he began crushing every rock in sight. Rosalie laughed indulgently, and Emmett's delight grew when she showed him that she could crush the rocks, as well.

Carlisle sat down as well, motioning for the rest of us to follow suit. "Nevertheless, Emmett, this life does bring some challenges. You're very young, and very strong. You _must_ stay with us at all times, for now. If you run off again, we might not be able to catch you in time."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Emmett said emphatically. _Rosalie would be unhappy. _"But what about my family? They need me."

Carlisle shook his head. "I'm afraid you need to stay away from all humans, Emmett. If you got close to them, you would lose control and kill them. You don't want to hurt your family, do you?"

"No."

"Good. We'll keep you out here in the forest for a while, then. When the time is right, we'll bring you back home with us."

_Home._ Emmett frowned, picturing the cabin that he shared with his family. _I haven't laid up enough meat for the winter, and I never got around to that woodpile yet. And I haven't checked the traps in-_ "What day is it?" he asked abruptly.

"Monday, the eleventh," Esme answered.

Emmett shot to his feet. "I just have to check the traps," he said absently as he looked up at the sun. _Which way is home?_

"No, you can't go back, remember?" I said patiently. "Listen, we'll do something for your family in a while- we'll make sure they're taken care of. But right now, we all need to stay together, and we're staying right here."

"Oh. Yeah." He sat back down and tried to listen as Carlisle began to speak again. But the pain in his throat was growing again, and he was growing more agitated every minute.

"Let's hunt again," I suggested.

Emmett nodded eagerly, and we directed him back toward the northwest. This time he managed to stay with us until the moment of attack, and Carlisle showed him how to hide his kill. "An animal completely drained of blood would raise questions," he explained. "And the bite mark is unmistakably humanoid. It's important that we keep our existence a… Emmett, are you listening to me?"

But Emmett was frozen stiff, staring at his own hand. The sun had finally fallen on him, and he was entranced by the glittering on his skin. He flipped his hand over, and held the other one beside it. _That's just creepy. Am I a vampire or a fairy?_ But then he looked up at Rosalie, who was glittering as well.

"You really _are_ an angel, aren't you?" he whispered in awe. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"

Rosalie smiled in response, and her thoughts took on an odd, floating tone; so unlike the usual purring satisfaction she usually felt when she was admired. The wind stirred up, and her hair blew gently around her face. Emmett's jaw dropped as he stared at her unearthly beauty; his mind emptied completely of conscious thought as he tentatively reached out toward her face. But he was suddenly aware of his own appearance, and frowned down at his blood-stained clothes.

"We have some more clothes for you back at the-" I stopped, closing my eyes to focus on the humming sound that was just beginning to enter my range.

_-sixteen-point buck! My lucky day._

My eyes snapped open in alarm. A human, less than three miles away! "Carlisle, Emmett would like a change of clothes," I said with a forced calm. "Come on." I headed away from the source of the human's mind, beckoning to Emmett to follow me.

Carlisle frowned. "But we left the clothes back-"

"No, we didn't," I hissed, tapping my temple meaningfully. Everyone but Emmett knew exactly what I meant.

"Oh, that's right," Carlisle answered quickly. "Come on, Emmett." We led him through the trees, but a breeze blew in from behind us, and he suddenly stopped running. I opened my mouth to him to urge him on, but my words caught in my throat as he spun around, and I saw his red eyes begin to darken.

Emmett McCarty had just smelled his first human.


	7. Accident

Everything happened too fast. Rosalie called to Emmett anxiously, and Carlisle began sprinting back towards us. But it was too late. I was the only one in Emmett's way, and I swallowed in fear as I crouched low, hoping at the best to throw him off course long enough for Carlisle to get to us.

He hit me with a thunderous crash, and I thrust upward with my shoulders as hard as I could. It worked, for a moment- he flew off me towards the right, slamming through three tree trunks on his way. But he reached back and grabbed the fourth tree in his path, using it to slow down his backward freefall. He used the angular momentum to slingshot himself off in another direction, running toward the human scent again. Carlisle had finally caught us, and we attacked in tandem, each of us landing on one of Emmett's shoulders and doing our best to pin his arms to his side as we tried to push him down to the ground. "Emmett, we're trying to help you. You don't want to do this," Carlisle groaned as he pulled on Emmett's enormous left arm- the very arm that he had insisted on saving.

"I'm _trying_!" Emmett wailed as he quickly lost the battle against his thirst. _I have to have it! I'm sorry! _He threw his upper body into a violent spin, jamming his elbows up into us, and we both flew off. The women had caught up now, and this time all four of us pounced. "Kick his knees in!" Carlisle ordered.

For half a second, it seemed that it was enough. Rosalie and Esme kicked as hard as they could, and Emmett's huge knees finally buckled. Carlisle and I followed him down as he sank to the dirt, and Rosalie began to speak in soothing tones. But a growl rumbled in Emmett's chest, and he exploded into a tornado of fists, knees and teeth, sending all four of us flying. I tumbled through the brush, conscious of a burning pain in my shoulder. As soon as I got my bearings, I scrambled back onto all fours and threw myself back at him. In the corner of my eye, I saw Carlisle dive for his feet.

As I sailed through the air towards him, time seemed to slow down. Carlisle hit him first, locking his arms around Emmett's ankles. Emmett kicked him away like a rag doll, and spun around to meet me head on, snarling in a feral rage; he didn't even recognize me anymore. I plowed into his chest, and it was only because he was still trying to catch his balance from Carlisle's attack that I managed to topple him. We crashed to the ground together, and that was when I made my mistake. I grabbed at his wrists, hoping to keep him down long enough for the others to help me. But he was too fast. His left hand twisted in mine, coming around to grasp my wrist. He wrenched it with everything he had, and I cried out in pain as I felt my hand give way with a horrible screeching sound I had only heard before in Carlisle's memories. Through the haze in my brain, I vaguely felt Emmett push me off, and I landed on my back, staring in confusion at my hand, which lay twitching on the ground twenty feet away from me. Though the pain was intense, I was fascinated by the peculiar sensation of my body being in two places at once.

"Edward!" Carlisle rushed to my side, examining my stump of a forearm. _This is my fault, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!_ Esme brought him the hand, and he carefully reattached it to the wrist, twisting gently to find the right angle. I felt an odd tickling sensation as the tissues began to fuse back together.

"Told you not to save that arm," I muttered, and everyone laughed nervously. I sat up, the joke forgotten as we all looked toward the spot where Emmett had disappeared from. "Go- I'm fine," I insisted. Carlisle looked at me apologetically and ran off with the others. _Don't run until the hand is more secure_, he thought as he disappeared. _It'll take a few minutes._

I stood, carefully cradling my hand as it continued to heal. I moved my fingers experimentally; they seemed to be in order. The pain in my wrist was almost gone now, and I noticed again the strange burn at the back of my right shoulder. I craned my head back as far as I could, but I couldn't see the injury, and I was reluctant to use my left hand to do anything yet. I walked after the others as quickly as I could, and as soon as the tickling feeling started to decrease, I picked up into a run.

.

.

.

Even before I reached them, I could smell it: human blood, and lots of it. I blew out my breath and held it as I continued running toward my family's sad thoughts. It was obvious what had happened.

I found them at the far side of a creek. Emmett was sitting on the ground with his head bowed, both his fists tangled in his hair. Everyone else was kneeling around the human he had just killed. The man hadn't suffered- that much was obvious.

By the time I reached them, Carlisle was moving away from the body to sit by Emmett. "I didn't mean it," Emmett said from behind his arms. He was afraid to look at Carlisle, afraid of what he would say. _I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it._

Carlisle just nodded, trying to hide his own anguish. _I can't believe this. Less than a day old, and this happens. I should have listened to Edward. I should never have created a vampire I knew I couldn't control. How could I have been so stupid? I may as well have killed this man myself. _"I know, son," he murmured. "I know."

Emmett stiffened at the term of endearment, but brought his hands away from his face. _Son._ He peeked over at Carlisle, unsurprised at the condemnation he saw there. He had no way of knowing that it wasn't directed at _him_. Carlisle stood up again, for once looking like the old man he was as he returned to face the corpse, and tiredly began to think about what damage control we would need to do.

Rosalie then turned away from the mangled body, torn between disgust and thirst. She came up behind Emmett, who flinched when she laid her hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, turning his face away from her as she crawled around to sit beside him. _Don't look at my face. Too much blood…_

"It was an accident," she murmured, rubbing his massive shoulder. "It wasn't your fault." She reached out to his face, gently bring it back towards her. She tore another length of cloth out of her skirt and stood briefly to dip it in the creek, and used it to clean his face. As she worked, he watched her face until he saw me jumping over the creek towards them.

He started to get up. "Oh, man, Edward, I'm so-" he paused when he saw my hand back in place. He whispered an oath. "Thought I took that off," he muttered.

I just grinned at him; I wasn't angry, not really. "You did. Fortunately, we can be put back together." I had used up my air now, and I braced myself, inhaling slowly. It had been a long time since I had been around this much human blood. When Rosalie had brought Emmett to us the other day, his circulation had long since slowed to a crawl, and most of his blood had already dried from the wind of Rosalie's running. But now, my throat burst into flames as I breathed in the air around me. The kill was still warm, but at least there was no pulse to taunt me. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to listen to Carlisle's soothing thoughts as he watched me struggle. After a few breaths, I knew I would be all right; but I would need to hunt soon.

I finally opened my eyes to find my father standing right in front of me, examining my hand. "It looks good," he said as ran his fingers over the faint, paper-thin line above my wrist- all that was left of the injury now. "You'll have to tell me if it gives you any trouble," he said in his professional tone. "I've never actually done that particular… procedure before."

I glanced at Emmett to make sure he wasn't paying attention; there was no need to make him feel worse than he already did. "There's something on the back of my shoulder," I mouthed to Carlisle, and I turned to my left. He frowned, lifting up the torn fabric of my shirt; I could see the injury through his eyes now. There was a crescent-shaped tear in the skin over my shoulder blade, and there was a silvery fluid sitting in the wound. I was surprised at this; I didn't know that we were capable of "bleeding". In fact, I couldn't imagine how I had gotten the injury in the first place. I supposed that Emmett must have hit me harder than I thought. Carlisle lightly touched the injury, and I winced in pain.

_Does it still hurt?_

I nodded, and jumped in surprise as Carlisle lowered his mouth to the wound and began to pull.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, twisting to try to watch him. "It's not like I'm going to get an infection."

_Just hold still._ He pulled away after a moment and spat onto the ground, watching my shoulder intently. I began to feel the tickling sensation again, and the pain faded. Carlisle nodded and stood up to his normal height. _It couldn't heal as long as his venom was still in the wound. I'm afraid there will be a scar, but it shouldn't be too bad._

"Venom?" I repeated stupidly. "_His_ venom? Are you trying to tell me that he _bit_ me?"

"Of course," he said in an amused tone. "How else did you think the skin could break?"

"Well, it's not like he bit my hand off," I said bitterly.

His expression shifted to concern. "Does that hurt too?"

"No, it feels normal."

"Good. Well, there are a couple ways to break vampire skin. You just happened to be lucky enough to experience both in a two-minute period."

I finally cracked a smile. It _was_ funny. In all my years as a vampire, I had experienced true physical pain only once before, other than my own thirst: the three second "sample" of Jane's gift. I shuddered at the memory. The pain of losing my hand had been nothing compared to _that._ But it was ironic that I had made it this many years unscathed, only to be injured twice in one day by my new brother.

I turned to watch Emmett again. He was staring at the man he had killed, and wishing that Rosalie hadn't seen him with the blood still on his face. He didn't seem to feel terribly guilty about the act itself- although I couldn't be sure, not being an empath. But he did seem to feel terrible about disappointing Rosalie. I was enormously proud of my sister in this moment- she was not only being understanding about his accident, but she volunteered to dispose of the body herself.

Although he was a wreck of a newborn so far, Emmett had already done the impossible- he had brought out the best in Rosalie. And it was obvious that their fascination with each other was only growing. It wasn't possible for much more than that to happen right now- there was no way we could leave Emmett alone with just one person anytime soon. But everyone was thinking about it: Rosalie may have found her mate. If that were the case, Emmett would truly become my brother, by marriage as well as by venom.

I smiled at the thought. I had never had a brother before; I had never even thought about it, as a human or as a vampire. I wondered, for the first time in all my years, why my human parents had never had any other children. Visions of baseball and toy swords flashed in my mind, and I smiled again. I was glad now that Carlisle hadn't listened to me. Emmett had certainly made our lives a lot more complicated, but it seemed that it was going to be worth it.

.

.

.

Rosalie ended up taking only the hunter's arm, along with the accompanying sleeve, a fragment of one of his shoes, and his gun. She had found a wallet in his pocket, and was heading nearer his home to stage a bear attack. After she had gone, Carlisle started a fire and made sure that both my wounds had fully healed before allowing me anywhere near it. It was the first time that any of us had experienced a true injury, and the first time that the danger of fire had become real. It was a sobering lesson for all of us.

Once the fire was large enough, he tossed the body into it, and we watched in silence as it began to burn. Emmett was vowing to himself that it would never happen again, but even as he was thinking it, the memory of the taste of the man's blood tormented him. It would be even more difficult for him to resist, now that he had tasted it.

"Are you thirsty again?" I asked, touching his arm lightly.

"No," he said sullenly. "I wasn't even thirsty when I took him. That was the worst part."

"You're a newborn," I said simply. "I understand how hard it is to resist."

He looked up. "You had an accident, too?"

"No, not an accident." I stared into the fire, feeling the ache in my throat grow as the memories hit me again. "Eight years ago, I left Carlisle and Esme. I went off on my own and hunted humans for four years."

Emmett glanced back at me in surprise. "Well, at least mine was an _accident_. How many'd you kill?" Then he frowned, realizing the rudeness of his words. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's all right," I lied. I hadn't spoken of those dark years since I had explained them to Rosalie, and I was surprised at the violence with which the shame flooded through me. I looked again at the body that we were burning, and I flinched as I began to see other faces inside the fire- faces of the men _I_ had killed. How many times had I stood by a dumpster, staring in righteous indignation as the flames consumed my latest victim? How many times had I stood on the banks of the Hudson, or the Mississippi, or the Fleuve Saint-Laurent, watching to make sure the body sank properly? How many times had I told myself that I wasn't a murderer, but an executioner? A righteous vigilante? When the whole time, I was just another monster, preying on other monsters…

I felt a hand on my back. "Edward," Carlisle murmured, "Those days are behind you. You don't need to relive them." He looked up into my wide eyes, and then followed my gaze to the burning corpse in front of me. _Turn away from the fire, son._ He pushed gently at my shoulder, trying to block my view, but I resisted, locking my eyes onto the pyre and swallowing as the number of faces began to multiply. I didn't see only my victims now; I saw their loved ones, those whose sons, whose brothers I had murdered. I clenched my teeth as I saw Elise, weeping for her Jimmy, and for the children that would never be born. Oh, God, how many?!

I felt Carlisle's grip tighten on my shoulder as he continued pushing. _Edward, turn away, NOW. I need you at your best, and drowning yourself in your guilt isn't going to help. I need you to be alert, for Emmett's sake. Are there any humans nearby that we need to know about?_ He shoved me again, and I smiled sadly, letting him move me this time. Carlisle knew me too well; he knew that appealing to my sense of duty was sometimes the only way to snap me out of it. At least I had the consolation that I had already returned his favor; the only thing that could snap _him_ out of his guilt was concern for one of his children. As always, my father and I balanced each other out perfectly.

I finally turned my face away from the fire, and swept the surrounding forest with my gift, searching for thoughts: nothing. "Nothing there," I reported, and Carlisle nodded, watching me anxiously. Esme was watching me as well. She turned and began digging; she wanted to bury the corpse before I got too difficult.

"I'm fine, Esme," I said sheepishly.

Emmett just looked back and forth between all our faces. "What?"

I turned back to him abruptly. "To answer your question, Emmett, I killed nearly a thousand men. I used my mind-reading to select only those who were criminals; I was under the delusion that as long as I hunted monsters, I wasn't one myself. But I was wrong. The guilt caught up with me eventually, and I returned to beg Carlisle's and Esme's forgiveness." I nodded toward them. "You will never find two more loving, patient parents anywhere in the world, Emmett. I hope you will decide to be a part of our family as well."

Esme stepped forward. "We feel the same way," she assured him. "We all hope you will stay. It will always be your choice- after your first year, I mean. But I hope you will choose this family."

Emmett looked over at Carlisle uncertainly. _Yeah, but I already broke the big rule. Not sure he'll want me around for long. I hope he doesn't kick me out. Rosalie…_

Carlisle just smiled back, seeing Emmett's fear. "Don't give it a second thought, Emmett. We all struggle with our thirst, especially in our first few months. We will help you. And I think I can speak for Rosalie, as well. I'm positive that _she_ wants you to stay."

Emmett broke into a huge, boyish grin. _Maybe I wasn't imagining it. I wonder if an angel and… and a guy like me…_

I clapped a hand on his brawny shoulder. "Let's worry about getting your thirst under control, first. But I can assure you that Rosalie has no intention of letting you go… and I ought to know." Emmett's smile grew impossibly larger as I touched my head, indicating that I really _did_ know what Rosalie thought of him.

"So, how does that work?" he asked curiously. "I mean, can you really hear everything I'm thinking? Right now?"

I nodded.

_So, if I think of the number, 347,289, you would know that?_

I repeated the number back to him, and he gave a low whistle. "What am I thinking about now?" he challenged.

"Pink cats."

_What's the capital of Montana?_

"Helena."

_Who won the World Series in 1930?_

"The Philadelphia Athletics."

"Wow. And yet I still managed to kick your-"

Esme cleared her throat, and he bit his lip just in time.

"Don't remind me," I groaned. "Though by the time your first year is over, you'll be weaker. And when that day comes, I am going to kick _your_-"

"Edward!" Esme gasped.

"Sorry," I muttered. "It's my first dismemberment."

I lifted my hand to examine it again, and I laughed as Emmett pictured the bottle of rubber cement he had used on school projects as a boy. "No, Carlisle just reattached it, and my body did the rest. How did you even know how to do that, Carlisle?"

My father shrugged. "I learned a lot of little things like that during my time with the Volturi. And you know I've met several nomads before, in my years alone."

"Carlisle was born in the seventeenth century," I explained to Emmett. "He traveled alone until he found me in 1918."

"What's a Volturi?" Emmett asked.

Carlisle frowned. "The Volturi are an ancient coven of vampires that date back thousands of years. They reside in Italy, and they are- for lack of a better word- our rulers. But they generally don't interfere unless laws are broken."

"Vampires have laws?" Emmett asked incredulously. _Man. This is nothing like the movies. And Carlisle looks nothing like Bela Lugosi._

"No, not at all," I laughed. Carlisle cocked his head in confusion. "Emmett is surprised at how unlike Hollywood this life is turning out to be," I explained. It seemed even our mountain man from Gatlinburg had made his way into town to see _Dracula_ and _Vampyr_; he must have been a young teenager when they had come out. His face was boyish enough, but with that build, he had to be closer to Carlisle's age. Would that make him my big brother, or my younger, since he was newer to _this_ life?

Carlisle laughed, as well. "I hope you're not too disappointed, Emmett," he chuckled. "The laws are quite simple, really. In fact, there is really only one law: that the existence of our kind must be kept a secret. It follows that we must hide our kills, whether they are human or animal. It is also forbidden to create child vampires, since they cannot be trained to obey the main law. And we must avoid displaying our inhuman qualities."

"Like the sparkle thing?" Emmett asked.

"Exactly," I answered as I tossed another log onto the fire. "And our lack of eating, and our speed, and our strength. You'll have to pay particular attention to the strength bit."

Emmett bellowed a laugh, and picked up a nearby boulder. He bounced it in his hand thoughtfully, and then with a well-placed _crack_, split it in two with his forehead. _Don't suppose I should do that on Main Street, then._

"Certainly not," I said drily.

Carlisle chuckled. "Anyway, the other rule that is implied by the main rule is that we must all be responsible for any vampires that we create. This is why you must stay with us, at least until you have your thirst under control. If you were to have another, ah, accident, and the humans saw you…"

"-then you would be the one to take the blame," Emmett finished. "I get it. Don't worry, it won't happen again."

"I appreciate your good intentions, Emmett," Carlisle said kindly. "But you are still a newborn. And now that you've tasted human blood, it will be even harder to resist next time. It will take several months for your initial thirst- and strength- to cool down, and for you to learn control around humans. I'd still like to keep you here in the forest for a while, before we try exposing you again."

"Yeah, because that worked so well the first time," Emmett sulked, kicking aside the halves of his boulder.

Carlisle's face fell. "That was partially my fault. We need to set some safeguards in place to make sure that we're not taken off guard like that again."

"But I can't listen any farther out," I said defensively. "That man was at the edge of my range, and he wasn't even bleeding. Emmett's sense of smell-"

"-is not your fault," Carlisle said pointedly. _Don't you dare take the blame for this. You were the one who tried to tell me how difficult controlling him would be._

"You'll have to excuse them, Emmett," Esme said, raising her voice to interrupt Carlisle's thoughts. "Sometimes these two compete to see who can blame themselves the most. The question is, what can we do to help Emmett next time?"

Carlisle and I bowed our heads sheepishly and began thinking. "Well, for starters, you'll have to learn to stop breathing whenever we tell you," I suggested. "In fact, when we tell you not to breath, you should exhale and then hold your nose until the coast is clear."

Carlisle nodded. "And it might be wise to stay near a creek or river at all times," he added. "That way, if a human gets too close, we can have Emmett stay underwater until the air clears. It's the only way to truly keep a tempting scent away from him."

Emmett squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know about that one," he said quietly. "I can't swim."

"I think you'll find things like that easier, now that you're a vampire," Esme soothed. "But it won't matter. You can hold your breath indefinitely now."

_Really?_ He sucked in a breath and held it for a couple of minutes, surprised when he felt no sense of urgency. "That's awesome. Hey Eddie, let's see who can hold it the longest."

I crossed my arms. "My name is _Edward_. And there would be no point to such a contest, since it would have no conceivable end."

"Fine." _Whatever you say, Eddie._

"Edward," I growled. Definitely _little_ brother.

"All right, as soon as Rosalie returns, we'll head back to the creek where you woke up," Carlisle decided. "You'll find a change of clothes there, and we can practice having you get into the water as quickly as possible. In the meantime, Edward and I will begin training you to hold your breath whenever we ask you to. Edward would be the one to hear a human's thoughts nearby, and I have the strongest sense of smell, besides yourself. We'll start asking you to hold your breath at random times; remember, exhale and hold your nose."

Emmett stood up. "Okay, do it now. Time me."

I rolled my eyes. "There's no point in doing it _now_, because you know we're going to say it."

"Oh." He sat back down with a _thud_ and began occupying himself with crushing rocks again. After he had pulverized everything within reach, he heaved a sigh. "I'm bored." _When is Rosalie going to be back?_

Esme smiled indulgently; it was just like having a toddler. "What should we do?" she asked no one in particular.

I absently tossed a branch into the fire, watching as it caught flame. "Well, we have a fire," I pointed out. "And we have a centuries-old vampire. Maybe you should tell some scary stories, Carlisle."

Emmett perked up, and scooted closer to the fire. "Yeah! How about some more about those Volturi?"

Carlisle made a face, but then thought better of it. _It might be wise to give him a healthy fear of the Volturi_, he thought. _That way if we do get separated, he'll be less likely to stay out on his own._ "All right," he said. "I'll tell you a bit about the wars against the Egyptian and Romanian covens; that should be scary enough. But first, I have something else in mind."

He began mentally reciting some obscure Japanese poem so that I could enjoy the suspense for a moment. "Earlier today Edward was asking me about the ways that vampires can be injured. And Emmett has been already been so kind as to demonstrate the two most common ways."

I gave Emmett a brotherly kick beside me. "Thanks for the education," I muttered.

He grinned evilly. "You're welcome." He kicked back, and I tumbled over backwards, much to my parents' amusement. I righted myself and bared my teeth playfully. Emmett placed his hands on his face in mock terror.

"All right you two, knock it off," Esme warned. _Boys._

"Thank you," Carlisle said politely. "Now as I was trying to say, there is one other way for vampires to be injured. It's quite rare, but quite deadly…" He trailed off with a huge grin which showed his teeth, leaning back to let the fire cast eerie shadows on his handsome face.

Emmett and I leaned forward. "Well, what is it?" Emmett asked.

Carlisle dropped his voice and uttered a single word: "Werewolves."

Esme slapped his shoulder. "Be serious," she scolded. "Werewolves aren't real."

"Oh, but they are," he replied in a ominous tone. Everyone's mind produced a different image, but I latched onto the one Carlisle was showing me: a charcoal drawing of a huge wolf, howling at the full moon.

"That doesn't look like a werewolf," I said in disappointment. "And it's only a drawing."

Carlisle bent down and quickly traced the image in the dirt, for Esme and Emmett's benefit. The crackling of the fire cast a trembling shadow over the picture, making it appear to be moving. "Yes, but I found that drawing in Aro's library. I can assure you there are no fairy tales in _there_. It was actually Caius, one of Aro's so-called brothers, who had seen it. In fact, he was almost killed in the encounter. He was so angry that he led a series of expeditions and hunted down as many as he could find."

"So, we can kill werewolves?" Emmett asked, cracking his knuckles.

"Yes. Aro believes that our two species are actually designed as a balance for each other; two perfect fighting machines, each the natural enemy of the other. But don't get too excited, Emmett; you'll probably never encounter one. Caius' expeditions were quite thorough, and he hadn't found one in centuries, when last I talked to him. And those he had most recently encountered had been in Eastern Europe."

"You called them the Children of the Moon," I observed. "The legends about the full moon are true, then?"

"Yes. I don't know much about how the man's life is affected the rest of the month, but it is true that he transforms with the full moon. When the change is complete; the man is temporarily lost and the wolf is a mindless, feral creature, totally without reasonable thought; that's why they are so dangerous. That generally gives our kind the advantage over them in a fight, though they also have a unique advantage: our venom doesn't have any particular effect on them, like it does with normal animals."

"How would Caius know that they become feral in their animal form?" Esme asked. "I thought you said before that he didn't have any supernatural talents. How would he have been able to tell that the wolves weren't having human thoughts?"

Carlisle hesitated briefly, a shadow falling over his face. "Caius doesn't," he said coldly, "but Aro does. He's the most powerful of the Volturi, Emmett- a mind reader like Edward, only different. He can read every thought a person has had, just with a single touch. And for better or worse, he has an insatiable curiosity. Caius was more than happy to turn over one of his captured werewolves - in human form- to Aro for questioning." _And experimentation_, he added to himself with disgust. "At any rate, Aro was the one who discovered the secrets of their kind. He was able to condemn the entire species with a single touch; their lack of sentience in their animal form was all the evidence he needed. When a werewolf encounters a vampire in wolf form, there is no chance for understanding, or for compromise; only instinctual hatred. The fight begins immediately, and it is always to the death."

"Excellent," Emmett growled, and I inched away from him. A strange light was coming into his eyes, and he was literally buzzing with energy. He was imagining himself dueling a whole pack of werewolves on his own.

"Do you need to hunt again?" I asked him. But he just shook his head, lost in his new daydream. Carlisle moved on to the next scary story: the Volturi's conquest of the vampire world. It was a thrilling tale; I had heard bits of it before, but I had never realized how different vampire "society" had been in past millennia. I couldn't even begin to imagine a world where vampires lived in the open, the human populace living fear of their immortal neighbors. After that, Carlisle told us of some of the nomads he encountered in his travels.

Before we knew it , the fire had died down. Carlisle and Esme got to work burying the hunter's remains in the hole she had prepared, and I began scattering the ashes of our fire.

I soon heard a high-pitched humming on the edge of my range, and I tensed in apprehension; was it time to test Emmett's control already? But I focused on the sound, and relaxed. "Rosalie's on her way back," I announced. Carlisle raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded back; we might as well start the training now.

Carlisle stiffened suddenly. "Hold your breath, Emmett!" he barked out.

But instead of exhaling, our newborn gasped in surprise. Half a second later, he remembered to exhale, scrunching his eyes shut along with his mouth.

"That was _awful_," I said. "If there had been a real human, he would already be dead. You inhaled instead of exhaling, and you forgot to hold your nose."

Emmett opened his eyes and blew out the rest of his air in a huff. "Try again soon. I'll do better." He lifted his nose and sniffed eagerly, smiling when he found Rosalie's unique sweetness growing in the air. _Wow. I just sniffed the air for a girl. How stupid is that?_

"It's not stupid," I assured him. "Rosalie would be flattered. She's a vampire, too, you know."

She appeared finally, and Emmett's attention was completely captured. "It's done," she told us. Her eyes were golden; it appeared she had stopped for a snack on the way home.

"Did you leave any footprints?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I took the trees, and I picked a spot where there were already a lot of bear tracks. I also found a bear and let him chew on the arm for a minute." Esme shuddered at the picture. "And I left it pretty well out in the open. I think somebody will come across it before too long."

Carlisle nodded his thanks. _One bear attack, and Emmett may already be reported as missing. I hope nobody sends a search party anywhere near here._

"We're pretty well away from Gatlinburg," I said. "I doubt they would come looking for him out here."

"Even so, let's stick to the western half," Carlisle answered. _I'm still not sure if we should let him be missing, or if we should stage a death._

Emmett sighed, our discussion bringing his worry back to mind. "I wish there was something I could do for my family," he mused.

"Remember, I said we would do something," I reminded him. "Maybe we can give them some money. But let's not worry about it for a while, all right?"

Emmett nodded, and glanced over to Rosalie, who was already watching him. He smiled awkwardly. "Thank you, Rosalie. For, um… cleaning up."

"Of course. It was the least I could do. I feel responsible, in a way."

Emmett picked up a half-burned twig and began twisting it nervously in his hands. I watched his thoughts curiously; if he was human, he'd be blushing right now. "Rosalie," he said, his voice a little too high. "Did anyone ever tell you… uh…" He glanced nervously at me, and I nodded encouragingly. "Did anyone ever tell you that you smell like honey and vanilla?"

Rosalie smiled, a huge, unaffected grin, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise; I had never seen her so beautiful before. It was like she was really becoming a different person!

"Thank you," she said shyly. She leaned in toward him and inhaled deeply, her thoughts buzzing in a way I had never seen before. "And you smell like spruce."

"Really? Is that… good?"

She just nodded, and that was enough. He reached over and took her hand, and they stared at each other, both wanting to kiss each other but not sure whether the other would like it.

I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly. Their silence went on for another minute, and Carlisle, Esme and I just glanced at each other, wishing we could leave.

"Oh, for Heavens' sake, you two, just kiss each other!" I finally said in exasperation. They laughed nervously and drew in for a tiny kiss, keenly aware of their audience. They pulled apart and looked back at us, smiling shyly.

Esme was trying not to jump up and do a cartwheel. _This is incredible! I can't believe she's really found her mate! Oh, if only we could give them some privacy! Maybe we could just move away half a mile or so._

"You know we can't," I said quietly. I rubbed my throat, feeling a phantom pain growing there; Emmett was getting thirsty again. "Time to hunt again," I said as I stood, and Emmett dropped Rosalie's hand, the kiss forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he growled, leaping up. _Time for some… deer. Ugh._

Rosalie stood gracefully, trying not to let her disappointment show on her face. Her newborn period hadn't been that long ago; she understood that Emmett was easily distracted. So she was even more pleased when Emmett turned back around, and awkwardly took her hand again.

My parents and I gave them a good five-second head start; it was as much privacy as we felt we could risk, even if it was nighttime. I watched Rosalie and Emmett running ahead of us, hand in hand. A peace settled over me at the sight of them together; this was meant to be. But at the same time, I felt an odd coldness twist deep inside my gut, so unexpected that it took me a moment to realize what it was.

I was _jealous._

_._

**A/N: Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been reviewing! A lot of people either don't have accounts or haven't signed in- I wish I could write back to you, but thank you to all of you! You have all been so encouraging :) ! Don't forget to let me know if there's anything special you'd like to see in this story- I try to accommodate requests as long as they can go along with what I have planned.**


	8. Brothers

After Emmett had hunted again, we headed back to the stream where he had woken up. He was more than happy to clean off and change his clothes, and when his hair had dried, it was curlier than ever. He and Rosalie were sitting on the bank, just staring at each other again. Carlisle, Esme and I were standing off a ways, watching them curiously. I still felt an odd mixture of happiness and jealousy as I watched my sister's peculiar romance unfold. The images of baby Henry were long gone; Emmett would be the star of her thoughts from now until the end of her life. I was also listening as hard as I could, determined to catch the thoughts of any stray hunters or campers long before their scent could endanger them.

Esme finally tore her eyes away from her daughter, and looked at me in concern. "Why don't you hunt next, Edward? You look awful." _And you're not yourself, either. Something's wrong._

I peeked at my image in her mind. I _did_ look awful. There were old bloodstains from the times I had tried to restrain Emmett, my eyes were black and my hair was matted. "I'm fine, Esme," I lied, trying to speak smoothly over the dry pain in my throat. "I'll go tonight, when we don't need to be as careful. Why don't you go now, instead?"

Esme looked over at Carlisle, silently offering for him to go first, as well.

"I'm perfectly fine, sweetheart. You go on."

She sighed and ran off. _I hate hunting alone. _

Carlisle watched her leave, his thoughts wistful. _Is she angry with me, Edward?_

I looked up at him in surprise. "No, why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "She hasn't spoken one word to me since… you know." _Since I let that man die._

"_Carlisle_," I moaned, "please stop it. Nobody blames you. In fact, nobody blames anybody! And besides, she's just distracted." I nodded over to the happy couple, who had begun whispering together, telling each other more about themselves.

_And she's… happy?_

"Of course she is. Look at her."

_No, not Rosalie. Esme._

"Oh. Well, yes. She's very happy for Rosalie, and she likes Emmett." I didn't much feeling like telling Carlisle why Esme was actually distracted; she was worried about me. She was worried about the burden I carried as I monitored the forest for thoughts, and she was astute enough to notice that something else was bothering me.

_And you?_

"What?"

He frowned at me. _It's like pulling teeth sometimes. _"Come on, Edward. We've known each other for a long time. Something's bothering you." _Are you still angry that I changed him?_

"No," I said quickly. "I'm glad you didn't listen to me, now. If nothing else, I've never seen Rosalie so happy. And Emmett seems like a good kid."

Carlisle cocked an eyebrow. "Kid? He's probably closer to my age than yours. It makes me feel rather awkward, actually." _He probably won't ever see me as a father, the way you do._

"On the contrary, he's already beginning to think of you that way," I promised. Carlisle grinned in surprise, and I began to walk away, relieved that we had gotten off topic.

"Edward," he growled in a low, teasing voice. _Get back here_.

I turned around, blowing out a breath in frustration. So much for distractions. "Yes?"

_I'm worried about you. What's wrong?_

"Nothing. I'm just thirsty, that's all."

He laid a hand on my shoulder. _How many times do I need to say this? When something is bothering you, you need to come to me. Don't you remember-_

"Yes, I remember," I said sharply, interrupting the thought he was headed towards: how if I come to him back in 1926, instead of trying to work out my questions alone, I might not have lost control of my thirst. I might not have broken my parents' hearts. I might not have disappeared for four miserable years and I might not have murdered nine hundred and-

_Edward, please. Talk to me._

I shuffled my feet, my self-hatred shifting to embarrassment. I glanced back at Rosalie and Emmett, feeling the envy twist inside me again as Rosalie looked up at her mate in adoration. "I'm… jealous," I muttered.

Carlisle dropped his hand from me in surprise. _Jealous? Of Emmett? But I thought that you didn't care for Rosalie that way._

"I don't. It's not that. It's just…" I glanced over again; Emmett was picking up Rosalie's hand again, and as his mind shimmered with happiness at the contact, my own hands ached with emptiness. "It's just that it's so confoundedly _unfair_. Rosalie only had to wait two years for her mate, and look at Emmett! He wakes up, and his mate is standing there right in front of him!" I felt ashamed to be confiding in Carlisle about this; after all, he was the one who had to wait nearly three hundred years for _his_ mate.

"Ah." _And you feel that it's your turn._

"I'm thirty-four years old, Carlisle. Most men my age have families by now."

"Have you ever considered the possibility that your mate hasn't even been born yet?"

I grimaced at the thought. "I certainly hope that's not the case. I would be old enough to be her father!"

He just chuckled, mentally calculating how many "greats" he should tack on to define his ancestry to Esme.

"I know," I said quietly. "I know that. But we both know I'm not as patient as you. Besides, how do I know if she'll ever turn up? How does it work, anyway? Who decides these things? How am I supposed to know when I meet her?"

Carlisle laughed, holding his hand up between us. "You know I don't have those answers, son. You just have to be patient. That's all the advice I can give you." He reached up to lay his hand on my shoulder again, his eyes full of love. _I wish I had more. You know I'd love to see you find someone. And it must be difficult to have to listen to their thoughts._ He drew in his breath sharply and released my shoulder as he realized what his thought had implied. _Edward, are their thoughts…?_

"No, not yet," I said warily. "But I don't think it'll be long. That's going to be a problem, you know."

_But you've lived with Esme and I for years. Surely you can find ways of tuning out what you need to._

"It's not that. It's just that we barely have him under control as it is. How are we going to let them have any time alone?"

_I didn't think of that. I suppose we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it._

"It would be best if that bridge didn't come for a while," I said drily.

Carlisle looked at me with pity. _I wish I could help you, son. I wish you could turn it off._

"I couldn't now, even if I had the ability," I pointed out. "I need to be alert for humans in the area. In fact, I really don't think I should go hunting tonight. Maybe in a couple more days, when he's calmed down a bit more."

"Absolutely not. You need it, to give yourself time to relax your gift, if nothing else."

He was right, as usual; the strain was getting to me. I had never gone so long with my telepathic sense extended to the limit before, and I was getting a headache for the first time since the Spanish flu. The strain was also making my throat ache more, my body burning up the little blood I had left in the constant effort. Just the thought of hunting sent a new burst of fire into my throat, and I nodded reluctantly. If I didn't hunt tonight, Emmett wouldn't be the only dangerous predator out here.

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By the time night fell, my head was pounding. I ran around our camp in two huge circles before hunting, verifying that there were no humans anywhere within a five-mile radius of Emmett. There was also a sporadic rainfall, which would intensify nearby scents, but would wash out anything farther away. When I was satisfied, I finally allowed my mind to relax, and promptly threw myself into the first stream I could find.

Two minutes later, I was clean and running, and it felt heavenly. The wind whistled in my ears, and I could feel the water droplets fly backward through my wet hair as it streaked out behind me. I ran for miles, leaving all conscious thought behind as I took in the smells of the forest. Finally, I found what I was looking for: a warm, pulsing, beautiful smell. Not missing a step, I threw myself off to the left, growling in excitement as I followed the mountain lion's scent. In the back of my mind, I knew I should hunt something else first, so that I could savor my favorite meal after sating the first wave of my thirst. But I couldn't stop myself, and I barely had the presence of mind to sweep the surrounding area for human thoughts before giving myself over to the frenzy. I slammed into my prey before it even saw me, killing it on impact and almost weeping with relief as I began to drink.

It was over too quickly, of course, and I fell backwards onto the damp earth, staring at the stars as I felt the new strength flowing through me. I couldn't remember _anything_ having tasted so good before. I must have been thirstier than I thought; it had been a trying day, what with my injuries, the blood on the human Emmett had killed, and my constant surveillance of the forest. My throat was still aching. Even as I laid on my back, I took a deep breath, smiling when my hope was rewarded: another mountain lion, less than a mile away. I sprung back onto all fours and inhaled again, my head snapping to the right a millisecond before my legs kicked off.

I found her by a wide rain puddle, lapping with her huge tongue for a drink. The first one had been a male; considering how close they were together, this was probably his mate. My throat burst into flames at the sight of her, but I was determined to have some fun this time. I kicked a nearby pile of leaves, getting her attention. Her head rose gracefully at the sound, and I inched forward, a low growl rumbling in my chest. Her ears laid back on her head and she drew down into a crouch, looking around for her attacker. I strolled out into the open, snarling openly in challenge now. She backed away, put off by my scent and my height. _Oh, no, you don't_, I thought angrily. I flew around her, blocking her escape and sinking down to mimic her posture as she turned to face me. She began to back away the opposite direction, and I sighed in exasperation. Why weren't they combative when you _wanted_ them to be? I reached out towards the puddle and splashed her right in the face. That ought to-

She flew at me in a rage, and I grinned as I let her bowl me over. I might as well let her have some fun, as well. I reigned in my instincts temporarily, letting my body go limp as she tossed me around for a moment. I felt her huge paws on my back, and I slipped away before she could ruin her teeth on the back of my neck. I rolled away from her in a flash, making her even more furious. We danced around each other, slowly rotating in a circle with the puddle between us as we stared at each other. Her tail was twitching like it had a mind of its own, and her teeth glistened in the moonlight as she hissed her final warning.

I hissed right back, and launched myself over the puddle, landing on the trunk of a tree behind her. She spun around and grabbed at me with her claws, and the sound of tearing fabric filled the air. I laughed out loud, letting her pull me off the tree before I flipped back onto my feet, killing her with a single sweep of my hand.

I drank more slowly this time, enjoying the flavor as well as the rush that the brief fight had brought. When I was done, I tossed her over my shoulder and went back to where I had left her mate's body. I dug a deep hole and tossed them inside, standing at the edge for a moment as I took in the sight below me. The two predators lay peacefully together in their grave; there they would lay for the rest of eternity, for all I knew. The male lay with one of his forelegs draped over the female, as if to protect her. As I covered them with the dirt I had dislodged, I felt a rare pang of sympathy for my prey. Had they been happy together? Had they known that this was their last day on the earth? I soothed my conscience with the thought that at least they had gone together. That should make them happy.

I paused, my foot buried in the dirt pile that I had been kicking into the grave. When had I become so sentimental about my prey? They were just animals! And yet, these lowly creatures had found the one thing that I, a powerful immortal, had failed to find: they had both found their mate. How was that right, fair? That these wild, meaningless creatures should find the very thing that I wanted? Who determined that they would find completion, and that I wouldn't?

And what if Esme was right? What if I really had been changed too young? What if my immaturity, or my crimes had disqualified me somehow? These animals had led such a short life, but I had no such relief. I knew it was possible for our kind to be killed, but it was so unlikely. Our coven-_family_, I corrected myself, was so large that we would never be challenged. Only the Volturi and the Southern Wars could constitute a threat to my life. Our peaceful family had no reason to earn the judgment of the first, and we weren't stupid enough to go anywhere near the second. My life was an endless road in the dark, and I had no way of knowing if I would ever find anyone to walk it with me.

It wasn't so bad, a few days ago. At least I had Rosalie. We were going to be alone for the foreseeable future, two immortal islands in a sea of humanity. Never touching, but at least we had each other for company and solace. It was going to be tragic.

But now she had abandoned me, and I was the only one left with the tragedy. She was deliriously happy to have found Emmett, and I _was_ happy for her. But their happiness was mocking me, in a way that Carlisle and Esme's never had. They had been my parents- this was different. In a foolish imitation of human tradition, I had thought myself more eligible than my sister, not only because I was older, but because I was _better._ We had both committed murder... But at least _I _was repentant. At least_ I_ didn't go around antagonizing everyone I knew. At least I _attempted_ to behave like a gentleman, not that she ever made it easy. _She_ was the one who played with the human hearts that surrounded her, not _me_.

I had been a fool. Fate, destiny, God, whatever, obviously didn't care about my good intentions. Even the three most depraved creatures I could think of- the Volturi- had all found true love. And now Rosalie, the most difficult, shrewish, undeserving vampress of my acquaintance, had found it too.

I needed to stop. I was out here to enjoy myself, and moping wasn't going to get me anywhere. Besides, I was being unfair to Rosalie. She might have an abrasive, unfeminine personality, but she had shown her strength of character when she had chosen not to pursue the choice that the Denali sisters had made. She was coming to Emmett pure; nobody could count the nature of her human ending against her. And it was likely that Rosalie and Emmett would be an important part of my life for centuries to come; if I didn't make my peace with their happiness now, I would be miserable for no reason.

I nodded farewell to the mountain lions and kicked the last of the dirt over their grave, resolving to bury my bitterness along with them. I would happy for Rosalie and Emmett. I _had_ to be.

I wandered through the forest after that, slowly making my way back to camp and stopping twice to hunt some deer; it might be some time before we had a rainy night again, when I would feel comfortable enough to leave Emmett. My thirst had been fully satisfied now, and my spirits rose in response, making my brooding thoughts from earlier seem a bit silly. I had forgotten how cranky I could get when I was thirsty.

.

.

.

After I had buried the last deer, I washed again in another stream, and headed back toward my family. When I was still four miles out, I heard an ugly roar and a smashing sound, and I lunged forward, running at my top speed the rest of the way. I picked up their thoughts as I drew closer, but it wasn't much help. Emmett's mind was a tangled mess of newborn rage, and the others seemed to be hiding from him. What had happened?! I _knew_ I shouldn't have hunted tonight!

I burst upon them, to find Emmett standing in the middle of a wide circles of fallen trees, anxiously calling for Rosalie to come back to him. She was standing behind Carlisle, frozen in fear as she peeked out from behind him. Esme was next to them, her hand resting protectively on Rosalie's back.

"Just calm down, Emmett," Carlisle was saying. "Just calm down for a moment."

"I _am_ calm!" he bellowed, and a horrible oath echoed through the clearing. He clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm done now. Rose, _please_-" he reached out his hand to her, and I winced, waiting for her to scream back that her name was Rosalie, not Rose. She hated the nickname, because it reminded her of Royce; he had called her that.

But she didn't scream back, or correct him at all. She stepped out from behind Carlisle, and inched toward Emmett carefully. When she reached him, he bowed his head and apologized again, thinking how awful it was to have scared her. He lifted his hand, intending to hold her, but she drew back, flinching.

"No, he's fine now," I told her. She went back to him, and they sat down together on one of the trees he had smashed. They began speaking to each other quietly, and I turned to my parents.

"What _happened_ back here?" I asked, pointing to the pile of fallen trees in front of us.

Esme shook her head, not understanding it herself. "I don't know! They were talking, and then he just went crazy." I shuddered as she mentally replayed what had happened just two minutes ago: Rosalie and Emmett had been off by themselves, whispering, when Emmett had suddenly flown into a rage, yelling at Rosalie and knocking down everything in his path as he got angrier.

I focused on Rosalie and Emmett again, listening to their conversation and thoughts until I figured it out. "Rosalie was telling him about her human life," I said in a whisper. "It seems she had just gotten to the… end of the story."

"And he got angry because of Royce?" Carlisle asked. _I should have seen that coming._

I nodded. "He wanted to kill him, and he was demanding to know how he could find him. Rosalie tried to explain that he was already dead- oh, she's going to tell him the rest, now. About what _she_ did." My parents were again placed in the awkward position of wanting to give them some privacy, and needing to stay close by in case Emmett lost it again. I personally had no qualms about listening in every way that I could; Emmett was a loose cannon and we didn't need to be taken by surprise, about anything.

I realized with a jolt that I hadn't been listening for humans since I had come back. I quickly stretched my gift to the limit, relieved at how much easier it was now that I had fed. My range wasn't any farther, but I would be able to maintain a steady "watch" in our vicinity for human thoughts, hopefully without a headache this time.

I listened with fascination as Rosalie confessed her killing spree to Emmett. He didn't judge her for a second; he just took her in his arms and held her while she cried. My gift was not empathic, but it seemed that for the first time since I had known her, Rosalie's anguish was not destructive; it was cleansing.

.

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.

The next two weeks passed in roughly the same manner. Emmett seemed to have two speeds: hunting, and Rosalie. When he wasn't tearing through the forest, he was staring at his angel, silently or in whispered conversation. Their thoughts were beginning to take on a lustful tone, but they knew that it wouldn't be possible to act on them anytime soon. Rosalie was usually able to control her thoughts, and I made sure to express my gratitude. Emmett, on the other hand, seemed to have no ability or desire to control his thoughts in any way. I did my best to ignore him when his mind went down that path, but the rest of the time, I actually found his mind to be quite relaxing.

Emmett had the most astonishingly _simple_ mind I had ever heard before. It wasn't that he was not intelligent; he was like every other vampire in both his mental capacity and curiosity. But his thoughts and his spoken words were nearly identical. He almost never stopped to consider his speech before it exited his mouth. It was offensive, at times, but it was also quite refreshing. There was no pretense at all in Emmett McCarty; he didn't seem to be capable of it. I liked that.

But other than my eavesdropping, and my company on our group hunts, I had so far had little interaction with my new brother. So when Rosalie finally agreed to separate herself from Emmett long enough to go hunting, I had my chance.

We were still in the habit of hunting alone, in shifts, so as to never leave Emmett with less than three of us. The only exception had been the three times that I had persuaded Carlisle and Esme to spend some time alone; they never went far, and they only did it at night, when the risk was lower. But Rosalie had held out as long as she could. Even though she was clearly in love with Emmett, her fascination with him still held a maternal quality. She worried about leaving him, since her presence seemed to relax him. She also worried that she might "miss" something, the way a young mother might be afraid to miss her child's first steps if she left him with the babysitter. So in the end, Carlisle had to insist that she go.

Emmett looked like a lost puppy as he watched her leave. He stared at the empty path for another ten minutes, and then turned to me.

"I'm bored."

I looked up from where I was sitting. _I_ had been bored for over two and a half weeks now, and I was beginning to get irritable. Carlisle had made one quick trip back into town, only stopping at the hospital long enough to request an extended leave of absence. He went to the University next, withdrawing Rosalie and I from the fall semester of courses. He vaguely mentioned there being some trouble at home, and that we might be going on a family vacation, but didn't go into detail. He had stopped at home on his way back, bringing us all a change of clothes and a new pile of books to read. I had torn through the books in less than a day, and had been occupying myself with weaving baskets that we could use to carry the books to our next campsite.

We had moved twice so far, by necessity. Emmett's voracious appetite had all but emptied our first section of the forest of any decent game, and the remaining few had disappeared after his tantrum regarding Royce King. We had gone through the forest at a walk, with me scouting ahead to the south, and just three days ago, we had moved again. The baskets had come in handy both times, and I was working on another one now. I was working at human speed, which made it even more boring, but at least it stretched out the project for a longer time. So when Emmett came out of "his Rosalie daze" and actually _spoke_ to me, I eagerly set my basket down and clasped my hands around my knees.

"What do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. What do vampires do for fun?"

"Whatever we like. Would you like to play chess?"

_Chess? That's a stupid idea. And there's no chessboard. And I don't know how to play chess._

"It's not stupid. We can make our own board, and I can teach you. Come on."

I traced the squares in the dirt, and we spent the next hour fashioning pieces out of fallen branches and pine cones, and reviewing the rules of the game. Carlisle and Esme had nothing better to do, so they drew closer and watched us. I insisted that he play only against Carlisle and Esme, since I wouldn't be able to play a fair game. He lost the first seventeen games, but once he had beaten Carlisle for the first time, he was hooked. He had been skeptical at first, thinking that this was a game for those smarter than him, but he was pleasantly surprised at how easily he picked up the basics and was soon designing complex strategies in his mind. He went another thirty-six rounds before he began to lose interest. Finally he dropped his bishop in mid-move and flopped back into the leaves, sighing up at the sky.

"When is Rosalie coming back?" he wondered aloud.

"I don't think it will be too long," Esme assured him. _She's probably racing back now, to get back to him._

Emmett just rolled over and kicked a tree stump that was in his way. "I'm _bored_."

Carlisle smiled in amusement. "What else would you like to do?"

Emmett thought for a moment, his newly-expanded mind tabulating and rejecting hundreds of possibilities, based on his new identity, lack of familiar friends and lack of sports equipment. When he finally decided on what he wanted to do, I held my hands up in protest before he could say it out loud.

"No way."

"Oh, come on, Eddie!" he complained. "There's nothing else to do."

"Edward," I reminded him for the thirteenth time.

"You're just scared."

"Of course I'm scared!" I scoffed. "I don't _like_ losing limbs!"

"I'll bet Carlisle would, if you won't. Or maybe Esme."

"Be serious, Emmett."

Carlisle cleared his throat to interrupt us. "Would anybody mind telling me what it is we don't want to do?"

I nodded over toward our newborn. "Emmett wants to 'rassle'."

Carlisle's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"I want to _fight_," Emmett whined. "Just for fun, I mean."

I shook my head. "I don't consider having my hand ripped off and being bitten to be _fun_."

"I promise! No teeth, and no dismemberments. Come on, _please_?" _I want to try out these muscles! Everything around here is too soft, and even the bears are too easy. Please please please?_

"Fine," I moaned, getting up. "But I swear, if I lose so much as a finger…"

"All right!" Emmett yelled, jumping up as well. "Wait. How do we know who the winner is?"

I looked at Carlisle, who just shrugged back at me. He and I had done very little sparring, and it had mostly been up in Alaska, with Eleazar. Carlisle had wanted me to have some training, but he himself had very little interest in fighting, even when it was for fun. He thought for a moment, reviewing some of the training matches he had observed during his time in Italy.

"I believe the customary thing to do is to attempt to get your teeth at your opponent's throat," he said, eyeing Emmett nervously. _Of course, they went ahead and bit more often than not_. "At that point, the match would be over," he continued.

Emmett cracked his knuckles in my direction. "Excellent," he growled, baring his teeth. Carlisle and Esme backed away to give us room, and I glanced over at my father.

"This is a bad idea," I sighed as I turned back to Emmett, sinking down into an attack crouch. He was grinning at me in a way that made me want to _run_, not fight.

We circled each other for a few moments, running through strategies in our minds. Emmett's ideas were largely based on the "scrapes" he had gotten into a human; though the memories were fuzzy, there seemed to be quite a lot of them.

"Good grief, Emmett. How many fights _have_ you been in?"

He straightened up, frowning. "That's not fair, Edward. Turn it off!"

I rolled my eyes. "I can't turn it off. Just try not to think, all right? Just attack and see what happens."

He grinned, showing all his teeth. "All right!" He charged, and I easily stepped out of his way, so that he crashed right into Esme.

"I'm fine," she protested when he tried to help her up. "Maybe we'll watch from the stands, instead of the field." Carlisle chuckled and followed her up into a tree, and Emmett turned around, determined to hit me this time.

He came at me with a jump, and I simply crouched low enough that he sailed right over me. Before he could spin back around, I attacked him from behind, following his forward momentum with a kick to the back of his head, which sent his face right into the dirt. He came up cursing, and swung his fist around, which I dodged easily. This was much easier than before; I didn't need to keep him from killing anything, and he wasn't trying to run away from me. This was going to be a piece of cake.

Emmett charged again, and I saw his intention to dive at my feet a split second before he did it. I jumped straight up into the air, landed on a low-hanging branch and grinned down at him.

"That's out of bounds," he growled.

I just shrugged. "Says who?" I crossed my arms and refused to come down; I was beginning to really enjoy myself.

Emmett snarled and leapt up to meet me. It was too easy! I just leapt nimbly away as he landed with a crash, splintering the branch away from the tree and tumbling back to the ground. I landed right on top of him, ready to finish it. I opened my mouth and dove for his throat. He swatted me away like a fly, and I tumbled across the ground until I slammed into an old stump.

"Come on, Edward!" Carlisle called from his perch. "Don't let him throw you like that! Use his strength against him!"

I spun around, beginning to feel my own rage coming on. Newborn or not, Emmett was going to lose this fight. I attacked again, coming up from the ground this time to knock him off balance. Emmett stumbled backwards, but when I drove for his throat again, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed as hard as he could. It knocked the wind out of me, but no matter; I didn't need to breathe. I inched myself upward inside his grip, snapping my teeth as I got closer to his neck. He finally released me and kicked with his knee, but I grabbed his shoulder as I flew upwards, swinging over his head to land on top of his shoulders, the way I had when he had first woken up. He reached around to grab my leg, but I jammed my face downward and laid my teeth right on his throat.

"Game over," I hissed. He just laughed, a great booming sound, and released my leg.

"Again," he growled, and I nodded eagerly. We separated, and Carlisle called out a few instructions to Emmett as he crouched down again.

The second fight took much longer, and I discovered that while our bodies were quite different, we were almost evenly matched. My mind-reading didn't give me near as much of an advantage as I had hoped for; Emmett simply didn't plan ahead. He went purely on his newborn instinct, mixed with the fuzzy memories of his human fights, and I ended up on the defensive more often than I liked. But it often worked to my advantage; every time I dodged him, or backed away from his swing, he roared in anger and began to make mistakes. I made up for my size with my speed, and he made up for his slower responses with his sheer force. More than once I found myself flying backwards and slamming into things. He finally had me on the ground, exposing my neck by pushing up on my chin. But just as he began to bare his teeth, I gasped and looked past him.

"Rosalie!"

He released me and spun around, taking the bait. I laughed and slipped out from underneath him, dancing away as he turned back in anger.

"That's cheating!" he roared as he threw himself after me.

"I thought it was perfectly fair," Esme called from above us.

_Two can play that game_, Emmett thought with a snarl. He looked off toward the left. "Is that human blood?" he asked casually, sniffing the air. Carlisle and Esme gasped in horror above us, but I wasn't fooled. Instead of taking the bait, I used his diverted gaze to land a punch right on his adam's apple, and he howled in pain. _ Ow, that hurt!_

"Then don't look away," I teased as I dodged a kick. "You can't trick a telepath, Emmett." He snarled in anger and flew at me again. I stepped to the side, but at the last second, he changed his mind and grabbed, catching my entire head in his giant hand and slamming my face into the ground. It didn't hurt exactly, but I got enough dirt in my eyes that I couldn't see for a moment. I jumped into Carlisle's mind, watching the fight from an aerial view. I noticed now that there was boulder right behind me, and I reached back to hit it at an angle with my open hand, sending a spray of tiny rock shards right into Emmett's face, interrupting a particular vicious punch that he had been winding up for.

"That's it, you're dead!" he shouted, and he body slammed me against the broken rock, knocking the air out of me again. I kicked against him, but it was no use; he was just too strong, and I was still half blinded by the dirt. He brought up his left knee, pinning my right arm deep inside the rock and catching my left hand with his right. He grabbed my hair with his free hand and wrenched my head backwards. For just a moment, I felt a surge of panic when I saw the rage in his eyes. Was he really going to take my head off? Would Carlisle be able to fix _that_? I opened my mouth to tell Emmett to cool it, but I didn't have any air.

He came in for the kill, stopping when his teeth grazed the skin on my throat. _Game over, bro._ I gasped in embarrassed relief; he had been in control the whole time. He climbed off of me, and I stood, nodding in grudging respect.

"Well done," I admitted, and he nodded back, rolling his head to crack his neck.

Someone was clapping above us, and we looked up to find Rosalie smiling proudly down at us from beside our parents. "I knew you could do it, Emmett!" she cooed. _I've been wanting to do that for years._

"Why don't you come down here and try it, then?" I challenged. She just rolled her eyes.

I spun around to face Emmett, eager to challenge him again. I had agreed to the fight just to have something to do, but I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. When I hunted, I rarely used my full strength; it made it too easy. But fighting with Emmett was a real challenge, and it felt surprisingly good to use my muscles to their full capacity. But Emmett just shook his head and jumped up beside Rosalie, eager to hear about her hunt.

I sighed in disappointment; I had been ready to go again, and I had a few new ideas. So when Carlisle suddenly landed beside me in an attack crouch, I grinned and accepted his silent challenge. I backed up and we began circling, as I mentally ran through the fights that we had had in previous years; there hadn't been many. He finally lunged at me, and I danced aside easily.

"You're going to have to do better than that," I sneered. He lunged again, and I met him head on, snarling with energy. I met him in a spin, getting my elbow into his face and my knee into his side. He took the spin and brought both fists down onto my back, crushing me to the ground. I rolled away, getting up just in time to avoid his clawed hand sweeping in.

Carlisle was quicker than Emmett; much quicker. But he wasn't as strong, and he had the disadvantage of thinking too much. I dodged every attack with time to spare.

But then he began to remember his strategy from before, and compartmentalized his thinking. He began reciting a medical text in ancient Greek, while thinking about the fight at the same time. But his second layer of strategy was much more devious; he began replaying the fight in his mind, showing me everything that we did three seconds after we did it. I began to get confused, striking out where he had been standing three seconds ago, and I finally failed to dodge one of his attacks. He had me on the ground in less than a second, laughing as he pinned me with his teeth.

"We obviously need to practice more often, Edward," he growled. _Again. You can do better than that!_ I leapt up, determined to stay_ out_ of his mind this time.

As we fought again, Emmett's booming laugh echoed along with that of my mother and sister. He sounded so carefree, for the first time since he had awoken. I looked up at the joyous face of my brother as he cheered me on, and I smiled to see his huge arm around Rosalie. This was the way it was meant to be; this was right, and I would enjoy it.

I brought my gaze back down, to find Carlisle laughing in triumph as his fist zoomed toward my eyes.

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**A/N: Did anyone catch the reference to a scene in a certain famous novel? (hint: it's in the hunting scene)**

**Also, if you liked the hunting scene and you haven't read my earlier story _Hunter_ yet, go check it out. It's sort of a mirror image of this scene, but told from Bella's point of view. Thanks for reading, I hope this chapter was a bit more fun than the earlier ones :) !**


	9. Vampire Olympics Part I

**A/N: The next couple of chapters should be fun. According to the Guide, Emmett's favorite pastime is any sort of physical challenge, and he never got to do enough of that in the books. Special thanks to Vero Jiminez and everyone else who helped me with vampire sport ideas :)**

* * *

Emmett calmed down more with each passing day. By the fourth week, he was hunting less often, and his kills were cleaner as he learned to control himself somewhat. The four of us still stayed with him during every hunt, hanging back as he attacked his prey, but things weren't as tense as they had been.

As his mind began to settle down, Emmett required more and more entertainment. He and Rosalie still spent a lot of time talking together, but it seemed that even as a human, Emmett had always been a physical being. He was the only vampire I had ever met who didn't _like_ to sit or stand still. He generally began twitching after a mere hour of inactivity. Carlisle and I were more than willing to fight with him, to pass the time. But even that became boring after a few days, and we wracked our brains for ways to keep Emmett from driving us crazy, or from running off again. Finally Carlisle came up with the brilliant idea of having a series of competitions and games. As soon as I heard the idea in his mind, I lit up.

"That's exactly what we need," I said eagerly. "What if we-"

But Carlisle had already darted over to where Esme was standing, whispering with her. He dearly missed having time alone with his wife, and he wanted this to be _their_ project. I backed away, doing my best to ignore their thoughts and conversation. Besides, it seemed like they were coming up with some interesting ideas, and I wanted to be surprised, as well.

I ran over to where Rosalie and Emmett were sitting. They were dangling their feet in a stream, and Emmett was trying to remember the times that he had gone fishing with his human father, so that he could tell her about it. But the memories were elusive, and he was beginning to get upset.

"I know a secret," I said mysteriously, taking off my shoes and socks to join them in the water.

Emmett glanced up, his fishing problems forgotten. "What?"

I nodded over to our parents. "Carlisle and Esme are planning a family game day. I'm trying not to overhear too much, but it sounds like fun."

Rosalie smiled in relief; she was the one who had been carrying most of the burden of keeping our newborn entertained. She never wearied of the task, but she had been running out of ideas, as well. "What have you heard so far?"

I leaned in closer. "Well, I know there's going to be a high jump. And Esme was thinking about a three-dimensional race when I came over here."

Emmett scrunched his brow, trying to figure out what a three-dimensional race would look like. "Can we do rodeo?" he asked suddenly.

I just looked at him in amusement. "Rodeo."

"Sure!"

"Emmett, first of all, there aren't any horses in the forest. Second of all, a horse would never get near you without having a heart attack. And thirdly, if _you_ got that close to a horse, you'd probably drink it."

He was sorely disappointed. "Okay, how about basketball?"

I considered this. "Maybe we could do that. I think Carlisle is planning to make a trip into town to get some equipment, anyway."

"What about horseshoes?" Rosalie asked delicately. She was getting less excited by the minute. It was bad enough that she hadn't been able to wash her hair properly in over a month; the last thing she wanted to do was play a bunch of schoolboy's games.

I shrugged. "Why not? If we can't get the right equipment, we can just make our own."

"Yeah, like we did with the chessboard," Emmett said enthusiastically. "Rose, do you want to play chess?"

She smiled. "Now that's my kind of sport."

Emmett got up to go find our homemade pieces, and I turned to my sister. It was the first chance I had had in weeks to talk to her alone, and I was surprised to find that I missed her company… sort of.

"So, that's really all right with you?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the water.

Rosalie didn't look up, either. She was running through chess strategies already, along with a detailed analysis of Emmett's pectoral muscles. "Hmm?"

"That he calls you 'Rose'."

"Oh, that. Yes, I find I… rather like it, coming from him. Strange, isn't it?" _What love does to you._

I sighed, tossing a rock into the stream. "I wouldn't know."

She reached over to rub my shoulder. "It'll happen," she said sagely, like she had known all along that she would find Emmett.

I looked up. "I'm happy for you, you know. Really happy. Emmett's great."

Her thoughts glistened, and once again, I wished for the ability to read emotions. "Yes. Yes, he is."

"And he's great for _you_," I said, hoping to get more out of her.

Rosalie picked up a rock as well, skipping it expertly across the water. "Do you think…" An image of white bells and a three-tier white cake flitted across her mind. She dashed the image away, embarrassed.

"I think the cake isn't likely," I teased. "But I wish you every happiness, Rosalie. And I'm proud to call Emmett my brother. Even if he does fight like a grizzly bear."

Rosalie considered my analogy. "I wouldn't know. I've never even seen a grizzly bear."

I perked up. "You're kidding! Well, I guess you couldn't have, could you? I had them a lot when we lived in Montana. They're _good_. I mean, not as good as mountain lion, but one of the best."

_I'll bet Emmett would like them. __They're big, right?_

"Yes, and mean, too. I think you're right. We've got to get him some grizzly. Maybe we could convince Carlisle to move somewhere in the Northwest next time."

Emmett returned then, carrying the chess pieces tucked inside his shirt. I watched as he scratched a board into the ground, and he and Rosalie sat down opposite each other to play.

"I get winner," I called as I headed back to where Carlisle and Esme were talking. It seemed they were done their planning session; Esme was rattling off a list of supplies that she wanted Carlisle to get while he was in town. I was utterly confused to hear the end of her list. Champagne glasses, two dozen eggs, and a bottle of soap bubbles? I ran up to her side and cocked my eyebrow curiously.

She pushed me away playfully, blocking me out of her mind. "Stop eavesdropping, you," she teased. "You'll find out with the others."

"Is Emmett thirsty?" Carlisle asked me.

I raised a hand to touch my throat; nothing much, even when I focused on Emmett's mind. And when we had been talking a moment ago, his eyes had been a nice, calm crimson. "No, I think he'll be fine the rest of the day. Oh, and he asked if you could get a basketball."

"Good. I'll be a couple of hours, but no more than that." _Basketball? __That should be interesting. _He turned and darted away, eager to begin the games; he was as bored as the rest of us.

Esme watched him go, a smile lingering on her face. _He's just as excited as the children. __I can't wait to see if he beats Emmett at bowling._

"Bowling?"

"Carlisle wanted some games where Emmett's strength wouldn't outshine everyone… or break all the equipment. Anyway, I thought you and he might like to design that one. Maybe you could figure out the pins, and he could make the ball, out of stone or something. I tried to get Carlisle to get a real bowling ball, but he said Emmett would probably just break it, and he already has too much to carry back, anyway."

"He'd like that," I agreed. Anything involving smashing something was right up Emmett's alley.

.

.

.

By the time I got back, Rosalie was ahead, three games to two. I could see that Emmett had let her win one of them, but she looked so proud I kept it to myself. I took Emmett's place, and when I told him about the bowling ball idea, he ran off eagerly to find "a good rock". I followed him anxiously for a moment, but saw that he was only returning to the spot we had just hunted in this morning.

"Wouldn't any rock do?" Rosalie wondered when I came back to sit at the chess board.

"I think he means one that doesn't break as soon as he touches it," I told her with a smirk. I beat her in six moves and she pouted in disgust.

"Now I remember why I don't like playing with you. You _cheat_."

I smirked back at her as I reset the board. "Can't help it."

Emmett was back by the time we began our fourth game. He had somehow unearthed a huge chunk of quartz, and was carefully shaping it into a sphere. I watched him in fascination as he used his teeth and fingers to chip off various chunks of the rock, and smoothed the rest of the surface with his finger pads and nails. In no time, he had a perfect sphere in his hands, and it began to sparkle as he got the surface smoother and smoother. He then carefully positioned his thumb, third and fourth fingers perpendicular to the surface, and gently began to dig down toward the core, experimenting with the grip until he was satisfied. He then grabbed a corner of his shirt and polished the whole thing until it shone; we had our bowling ball.

"Is there any more of that quartz?" I wondered aloud.

"Tons," Emmett answered. "When I buried my kill this morning I hit a vein of it. You want some for the pins?"

I nodded, and he scampered away again, returning this time with an armful of quartz chunks and his arms themselves coated with dirt. He dumped them on the ground, and I abandoned my chess game to begin working on the pins. It took awhile to get the prototype right; I didn't know much about bowling, and I wasn't sure how bottom-heavy they needed to be.

Emmett finally growled in exasperation. "Give it here," he demanded, snatching the quartz from my hands. He carved a bit more off the neck, and shaved the bottom a little flatter, and we had a perfect bowling pin. He tossed it back to me, and I spent the next hour carefully replicating his design nine times. Emmett was trying to recall bowling with his human friends- these images were clearer than the fishing ones. I laughed to myself when I saw an image of his personal ball, with his name engraved on it:

_Emmett__ "__The Bear"_

How fitting. I snatched his new ball away while he wasn't looking, and copied the words exactly as I had seen them in his memory. My fingernail was enough for this easy task, and when I presented it to him ten minutes later, he was enormously pleased. Esme came over to check our progress, and was equally pleased with our new bowling set. Emmett decided to make a second ball for the women to use; when I protested that they were perfectly capable of tossing the same ball as we were, he just looked at me like I had grown a second head.

"Um, their fingers are shorter, Eddie. The grip wouldn't be right." _Idiot._ He went off and returned with another hunk to work on, working even more carefully this time; this would be Rosalie's ball.

I decided to get him back for his insult, by testing him again. Emmett had done well lately, usually able to hold his breath within a tenth of a second of our surprise tests. I waited until he was deep in concentration, carving a particularly difficult irregularity out of the quartz. Then I jumped to my feet, drawing in my breath with a huge gasp. "Hold your breath, Emmett!" I hissed.

Rosalie sprung up beside me, sniffing the air anxiously. Emmett exhaled immediately, bringing both his hands up to his nose. But he had forgotten about the ball in his hands, and he smashed it right into his face. I collapsed to the ground in laughter, and Rosalie kicked me as hard as she could, right in the gut, which only made me laugh harder.

Emmett scowled as he inhaled again, and examined the ball for damage; but it seemed that his face had done a good job of smashing the imperfection right out of the quartz. "Aw, come on, Edward! I could have broken it. Why'd you have to do that right then?"

I rolled lazily onto my back, crossing my arms behind my head. "Because you called me an idiot."

"No, I didn't."

"You _thought_ it, though."

"Well, that's because you _are_ an idiot! My hand is twice the size of Rose's! We couldn't possibly use the same ball."

"How was I supposed to know that? I've never bowled before."

He snorted in disgust. "When were you born, the dark ages?"

"1918. Never got around to it, I guess." I kept the other reason to myself; that my human years had been spent in a higher social class than his own. I couldn't be sure, but I figured that my human father would never have gone _near_ a bowling alley.

"So, what _do_ you do for fun?"

I shrugged. "I've done various things. I enjoy working with wood, and running, and I love to read. I especially like poetry and English literature, and I also try to keep up with the sciences."

"That's because he's a miserable mechanic," Rosalie said haughtily. Emmett guffawed, trying to imagine his angel with her arms buried inside an engine. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

"But mostly, I like music," I continued after he had finished laughing. "Especially classical and jazz. I mostly play piano, but I've also tinkered with violin and classical guitar."

"Don't forget clarinet," Rosalie said, thinking of our evening with Benny Goodman.

"Yes, that's next," I replied. "Emmett, you'll be able to get into some hobbies once you come home with us."

"Home," he echoed thoughtfully, picturing his cabin again. He was thinking of his human family less often now, but he still worried about them. Besides the drink and the women, it seemed that he had actually led a fairly responsible life; I had finally learned that he was twenty years old, but that he had shouldered most of the provision for his family in terms of hunting, trapping, and keeping up a huge pile of firewood. He was especially worried about the firewood, now that the colder weather was coming on. His grandfather lived in the cabin, but he was too old to use the axe.

"They'll be fine," I reassured him. I resolved to do something personally for Emmett's human family, as soon as I got the chance. I certainly had money to spare, since I hardly ever spent any. And maybe I could sneak over and chop the firewood sometime, when no one was home. The trouble was, I had no idea where Emmett's cabin was, and we certainly couldn't let _Emmett_ anywhere near there. I was about to ask him for his address when I heard Carlisle's thoughts growing in my mind.

"Carlisle's back," I reported, standing up, and Rosalie pulled on Emmett's hand, eager to go see what he had brought.

"I'll be there in a second," Emmett said in a faraway voice. She bounded away, and I was left standing over Emmett as he turned Rosalie's finished bowling ball over in his hands thoughtfully.

"Come on," I said, kicking his foot as I began to walk away. But he didn't move; he was staring at the ball intently now.

"Can I, uh, talk to you for a second?" he mumbled. _It's sort of… private._

I sat back down, curious. I didn't see anything peculiar in his thoughts, other than his desire to add an engraving to the ball he was holding. "What is it?"

He glanced over at Rosalie, who was now well away from us. What could he possibly want to talk to me about, that he didn't want Rosalie to know? I suddenly remembered the vivid memories I had seen during his transformation; was he going to confide in me about the women? What was I supposed to say to _that_?

"So, I was thinking… I'd like to engrave something on here, like you did on mine," he began nervously.

He had lost me. "Okay?"

"Uh… maybe you could help me do that."

"It's easy. I just used my fingernail."

_I sort of… can't read._

I blinked. "Come again?"

"I can't read," he mumbled under his breath. "I can write a few words, and I knew what you engraved on my ball because my old one said the same thing. But I don't even know how to spell _Rosalie_, man. And I don't want her to know." _She's so smart. __And I'm just… you know, me._

"But didn't you ever go to school?"

He shrugged. "For a while. Didn't take, I guess. My mom tried to teach me too, but the letters kept flipping around. I didn't care much, anyway. But now-" He glanced back at Rosalie again. "I love her, Eddie. I feel like I can tell her anything. I've even told her about the girls I've been with, and about the booze. But this is just… I mean, now that I have the vampire brain, do you think you could teach me by the time we move back to the house?"

"You want _me_ to teach you to read?"

"Yeah."

"But Esme was a real teacher. Don't you want her to do it?"

He squirmed in front of me. "I kind of want to keep it between us, you know?"

Ah. He didn't want his new parents to know, either.

"I'll do it," I promised. "And I'm sure it'll be easier than the last time you tried. How about next time we fight, we'll take it away from the others, a bit?"

He nodded in relief. "Yeah. Thanks, man." He leaped up and ran to join the others, and I followed more slowly. An illiterate vampire- that had to be a first. Though if I thought about it, it was probably more common than not, up until the past century. Our kind were marked by our insatiable thirst- for knowledge, as well as for blood. I was sure Emmett wasn't the only new vampire who had wanted to learn to read, upon discovering this new thirst. A humorous image of a brightly-colored classroom in Volterra flitted across my mind, complete with chalk and slates.

I was sure that Emmett would be able to learn quickly- what vampire couldn't? But I still felt a little nervous about the task before me. I had never really taught anyone to do _anything_. Why did he ask _me_? I couldn't say why, but I felt honored that he had.

.

.

.

The three-dimensional race was first. Carlisle demonstrated the course for us by running it himself- a two-mile zig-zag through the forest, ending with a climb to the top of a giant spruce, a leap to an adjacent tree, and a return to the starting line. Since there was so little straight running, I was permitted to run without my handicap; Carlisle had chosen a winding course in order to level the playing field for everyone. Rosalie wasn't interested in participating, but Emmett was so excited for her to be in the race that she agreed to do it. We all knelt by the starting line and shot forward together, with Emmett and I quickly taking the lead. But with the tight maneuvering through the course, Rosalie caught up quickly, light on her feet as she was. We all reached the tree around the same time, with Esme lagging just a bit. I landed first, but I was shaken loose when Emmett unexpectedly crashed alongside me. I fell right on top of Carlisle, who had landed just beneath me, and we tumbled down together, laughing as we fell. The second I hit the forest floor, I grabbed Carlisle's shoulder and used it as a springboard back up into the tree. In my excitement, I almost overshot the treetop altogether. I grabbed onto one of the outermost branches of the canopy, snagging myself back down into the main branches and leaping into the second tree at the same time as Esme. I was surprised at the competitive tone in her thoughts, and even more shocked when she kicked me aside so that she could begin her descent first. I growled playfully and raced down the trunk- jumping wasn't allowed on this part of the course- and bowled her over just as we reached the ground. She gave a little cry and I spun around, horrified at what I had just done.

"Esme! I didn't-"

She laughed out loud and shot past me, hooking a foot behind my knee to topple me as she passed. My own mother!

Rosalie ended up the winner, with Emmett and Esme less than a second behind her. Carlisle and I were embarrassingly delayed, and so we took our time coming back to the finish line.

The high jump was the next event- though it was purely a vertical jump, quite unlike the human sport. Carlisle found the tallest, straightest tree he could, and cleared all the branches away from one side, tossing them down for the rest of us to carry away. He reached into his pocket and produced a hunk of chalk, and explained that each jumper would stand by the base of the trunk, chalk in hand, and jump. When we had stopped our ascent, we were to reach out and grab the tree at shoulder level, and write our name at the spot where our hand had first touched. Everyone nodded in understanding, and I glanced quickly at Emmett, who was also peeking at me.

_It's okay. __I know how to write THAT word. __I just hope I get the little "e" turned the right way._ I saw a few human memories of a younger Emmett, trying to write; it seemed that his dyslexia had been quite severe. I could only hope that the venom had done something to fix it; no one knew what caused the disorder, since it was a relatively new concept.

Rosalie and Esme agreed to join in, although they knew they didn't stand a chance. I figured that Emmett would likely win, this being primarily a test of strength. The women went first, followed by Emmett. When he landed, he passed me the chalk and I chuckled to see the four depressions that his feet had made during his takeoff and landing. I could only imagine how many times we were going to have to repair the staircase once we got Emmett back home!

I knelt down beside the tree and jumped, zooming past Rosalie and Esme's names. I finally slowed to a stop in mid-air, and grabbed at the tree, wrapping my feet around the trunk while I wrote. I glanced up, surprised to find Emmett's name just ten feet above my own; I had thought it would be much higher. I was pleased to see that he had written all the letters correctly, and I let go of the tree, landing lightly beside Carlisle, who extended his hand for the chalk. He shot up into the sky and returned ten seconds later, declaring Emmett the winner.

Esme wanted to do the bowling next, although she herself had no interest in the game; she was mostly interested in watching Carlisle. He had once been on a hospital bowling league, back in the 1890's, and she knew he was eager to pit himself against Emmett, whose experience was much more recent, though in his human days.

Emmett marked out the lane using lines in the dirt and fallen branches. He and Rosalie were officially a team, and I was with Carlisle, but everyone knew who the contest was really between. We did a few experimental runs, discovering that the pin placement needed to be farther apart to give us any sort of challenge. In the end, we decided on a twelve-foot-wide lane, and the pins were two hundred feet away from the person bowling; this arrangement made it difficult enough to be fun, without being so difficult that the land gave the ball _too_ much random movement.

Sixteen hours later, the game was still on; Rosalie and I had long since lost interest and had taken to cheering on our "teammates". Emmett wanted to add the extra challenge of bowling with his eyes shut, and Carlisle eagerly agreed. Emmett's mind was constantly whirring, trying to think of new complications he could add to the game. I also caught him occasionally thinking about what bets he could place, before he remembered that he didn't have any money. Apparently _that_ was one of his old habits, as well.

I finally lost all pretense of interest in Carlisle's game, and walked back to help Esme get ready for the next competition. She was amassing a collection of flat stones and dividing them into five piles. She instructed me on the required dimensions for the stones, and I went to work collecting them alongside her. She was humming to herself as she worked, thinking how nice it was to see her family having fun and laughing together. _We don't do this often enough. __With Emmett around, though, I think that will change._

I watched her for a moment longer, chuckling to myself.

"What?"

I nodded toward the pile of rocks behind her. "You. You're so _different_ out here, Esme. Sometimes at home I truly forget that you're not an everyday human housewife, and here I find you organizing vampire sports and knocking your own son off of his feet!"

She laughed sweetly, looking every inch the human mother I had been referring to. "I _am_ having fun. There's something about wearing slacks that makes me feel free! Maybe I'll wear them more often."

I snorted. "I'm sure Carlisle would love _that_."

She just sniffed delicately and went back to her rocks. "Maybe he would."

"Well, since you're broadening your horizons, maybe you'd like to join our sparring sessions next time."

"Ugh! It's bad enough to watch you three pretend to kill each other! Do you know how hard it is for a mother to watch that?"

I just grinned mischievously; we both knew that her greatest fear was that we would forget ourselves one day and destroy her antique furniture in the living room. She had indeed been shaken when Emmett had ripped off my hand, but after she saw how easily it had been repaired, she wasn't truly worried about us hurting each other.

_So, you seem happier, lately._

I nodded. "I just needed to adjust, at first."

"To having a brother?"

"No, Emmett's great."

_Oh, Edward…_

It was obvious from her thoughts that Carlisle had already told her about my earlier feelings of jealousy. I wasn't offended- I knew that my parents shared nearly everything with each other. But no seventeen-year-old boy likes seeing pity in his mother's eyes. "I'm fine, Esme. I'm sure I'll find the right girl eventually."

"Of course you will." _I hope so._

I turned away from her, adding a handful of rocks to one of the piles. Her comment to Rosalie- the one about me being turned too young- was still gnawing at me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to bring it up. I knew Esme would continue to fret over me, especially now that I was "the single one" again; I already suspected that she had withdrawn from the bowling competition only so that I wouldn't feel like a fifth wheel. I didn't really want to get her going any more than she already was. She was coming toward me now for an embrace, and I gritted my teeth as she trapped me in her gentle arms and laid her head against my chest. I loved and hated this power that my mother had over me; I had been perfectly fine two minutes ago, and now the envy was creeping back into my heart, even as she comforted me against it.

_I know she's out there somewhere. __If anyone deserves to find love, it's you._

She meant well. So I bent down, kissed her on the forehead, and murmured something sweet. I pulled out of her arms then, feeling her eyes on me as I turned away and headed back toward the rest of our family.


	10. Vampire Olympics Part II

**A/N: I've decided to extend the Olympics to a third chapter, since Edward decided to totally interrupt this one with his angstiness. Anyway, just a heads up: lots of mention of blood in this chapter, though no humans were harmed in the making :) **

The bowling match would never have ended if Emmett's thirst hadn't gotten in the way. He finally admitted that he had to hunt, and it was decided that he and Carlisle would share the title of bowling champion. He had gone a record twenty-two hours without feeding, and we all let him know how proud we were. It took some time to locate any good prey; we would need to relocate again soon, hopefully to the house. While I hadn't seen the details in my parents' minds, it seemed that some of the games were designed to help Emmett with his dexterity. We had all been impressed with his delicate handling of the quartz, when he had designed the bowling balls. And he was getting cleaner with every kill he made, and he hadn't knocked down any trees in a while; the only question now was whether we could risk bringing him any closer to our human neighbors. The closest house was nearly four miles away, but there were plenty of reasons for a human to occasionally come much closer than that. On his last trip into town, Carlisle had signed up for a Post Office Box, explaining that we would be doing some renovations to our property, and would be temporarily taking down our mailbox, which sat on the main road at the end of our driveway, which was a mere half-mile long. There would often be drivers that close, but they would be moving quickly, and we hoped that with the colder weather, more cars would have their tops on. We didn't have trash pick-up or any other regular services, but there was always the occasional hiker that wandered near our backyard. A bigger risk would be the occasional out-of-towner knocking on our door for directions- unlikely, but it had happened twice already since we had moved here.

After the hunt, we returned to the huge sack that Carlisle had brought with him, and Emmett was happy to see that a basketball was waiting for him there. I quickly modified one of the baskets I had made into a hoop, and affixed it fifty feet up a tree that stood at the edge of a clearing. Emmett wanted to rip up the grass in order to make a more level court, but Carlisle said an artificial clearing would raise too many questions, were someone to stumble across it anytime soon.

The game didn't last long. At first it was too easy, with everyone jumping and making every shot. I moved the basket up another fifty feet, but then there was too much foliage blocked our jumps and our shots. I moved it back down, and Carlisle made a no-jumping rule. This made the game too boring in general, and at any rate, Emmett accidentally popped the ball during one of his more enthusiastic passes.

By the time we gave up on basketball, Esme was ready with her mysterious rock game. She had each of us, herself included, stand by one of the piles. The rules were simple: we had ten minutes to construct as tall a tower as possible, using only the rocks at our disposal- the only other rule was that you had to use _all_ of the rocks. It was soon obvious that most of our vampire characteristics wouldn't be of use in this one, with the exception of our steady hands and the ability to jump high enough to work on the top of our towers. We all laughed out loud when she explained the inspiration for this game: it was a project she had given her class back when she was teaching. Our "building blocks" were much larger and less colorful than the ones the children had used. But we weren't offended, and we tackled this challenge with the same competitive spirit as all the others. Emmett had quite a bit of trouble; his hand was just as steady as any vampire's, but he was still learning to modulate the force he used.

Carlisle quickly outpaced the rest of us, having built in the style of a house of cards. He was congratulating himself when Esme pointed out that he still had one rock he hadn't used, and when he gingerly placed it atop the others, the entire tower collapsed. Esme herself was eventually declared the winner.

The next event wasn't so much a competition, as an experiment. Carlisle had always wanted to clock my top running speed, and so he had brought a stopwatch. On one of his trips, he had found an old dirt path near the ruins of an ancient hunting cabin, and he thought it might be good enough to use as a track. When we had cleared and flattened the dirt as much as we could, we had a good three-quarters of a mile of fairly straight road. Rosalie and Esme came in at 115 and 110 miles per hour, respectively, and Carlisle at 134.

We were all curious to see whether Emmett would be able to match me. I had been hard pressed to match his pace that first time I had chased him, though that run hadn't been a straight shot. Now that he had begun to lose his initial strength and speed, I wondered whether I would be able to beat him yet. It was decided that I would run first, since Emmett was likely to tear up the road when his turn came. I was actually quite nervous as I knelt down, waiting for Carlisle to start the watch; even though I wasn't competing with anybody, I was hoping to make the speed that I had always fancied myself capable of: 150 miles per hour. Carlisle's finger pressed the button, and I sprang forward, the forest and the end marker blurring past me as I crashed right into the ruined cabin at the end of the road. I shook off the rotten planks that had fallen around me, and ran eagerly back to Carlisle, whose eyes were wide as he gaped at the watch: I was equally amazed to calculate an astonishing _173_ miles per hour. My family laughed at me as a huge grin spread over my face, and then the laughter erupted into cheers. I was already wondering how much faster I could come in if I was on a real track, and if I had more starting room. And we had only _estimated_ our track length at three quarters of a mile… I was daring to guess that I could really do 180 when I heard Emmett take off at a pounding run away from us; but he couldn't touch me, clocking in at a mere 140.

"Shoulda done this when I first woke up," he muttered as he accepted my high-five.

"I'll be more than happy to challenge you again in a few months," I said with a smirk.

_No way._

"No, seriously, I'm curious to see how fast you are when you're a year old," I said. "You're bound to always be fast, what with the length of your stride, and your extra strength. And you may actually gain back a few miles per hours once you've learned more, ah, delicacy."

He considered this, glancing back at the dirt road, which he had indeed torn up. It wasn't that Emmett didn't share every vampire's natural agility; it was just that he weighed quite a lot, and he was still getting used to the "give" of each material he encountered. He wasn't usually so rough on the ground itself anymore, but he had been more than enthusiastic with his sprint. "All right, we'll go again next October," he agreed.

We all worked to cover the road back over with brush again, and Carlisle announced that we were ready to begin the more difficult challenges. "These challenges are for Emmett, mainly, though I think the first one will be difficult for all of us," he added, and I frowned when I saw him thinking about what he had brought, and buried in ice six miles away: three glass bottles, full of human blood.

"I'm ready for anything," Emmett said eagerly.

"I think you are, son," Carlisle chuckled. "All the same, I'd like you to sit down while I explain this one." Emmett plopped onto the ground, smiling to hear Carlisle call him "son"; he hadn't said it since the day of the accident. "In fact, I think we're just about ready to move back home."

"Thank God!" Rosalie groaned. "I'm sick of living in the woods." _Shampoo! __And I can't wait for Emmett to see me in that pink tea dress._

"But in order to do that," Carlisle continued, "it will be necessary to work on your control around the scent of humans. Our home is isolated, but there will be times when a human or two will be close by."

"He's not ready to be around humans," Rosalie protested.

"Not closely, no," Carlisle agreed. _Let's see how he reacts to the words, first. _"But he can start learning to control himself when he comes across their scent. I stopped by the hospital yesterday and got some bottled blood-"

Emmett's eyes darkened as they snapped over to the sack of supplies_. __I haven't smelled anything._ _Where is it? __Don't get up, don't get up…_

"Well done, Emmett," Carlisle said proudly. "That was the first test- not jumping up at the _mention_ of the blood. It's far enough away that you can't smell it yet- and it's buried cold. If you smelled it now, it wouldn't be too appetizing. The test is simple: I'm going to return to where I have it hidden, and warm it back up. Then I'm going to slowly walk back toward you with it, with the lid off the bottle. I want you to keep breathing the whole time."

Emmett squirmed, finding it more difficult to remain seated as he imagined the glorious aroma of human blood coming closer and closer. _I can do this. __I'm going to make her proud of me. __Don't get up. __Don't. __Get. __UP._ He laced his fingers together, and sat on them, grinding his teeth with effort. "Okay… so what's the game? To see how close you can get without me attacking you?"

Carlisle frowned. "The idea is for you to not attack me at _all_, Emmett. And I'm not going to bring it all the way back to you. If I can get within a mile upwind of you without you losing control, I'll consider the test passed."

"I don't know about this," Emmett sulked. _This is gonna be a disaster. At least if I mess up, I'll get to taste it again. _His eyes darkened further and he growled quietly, chiding himself for the thought.

"I think you can do it," Esme said kindly. "Remember your first day? You took off running just because Rosalie mentioned human blood. You've come such a long way already, and-"

"That was before I killed that guy," Emmett retorted.

"-and accidents can happen," Esme continued. "Did Rosalie tell you about the time I killed a human?"

Emmett's eyebrows jumped up. "_You_ had an accident?"

"Yes, I did. And I was several years old. So please, give yourself some credit. We'll all be here to help you. And if the test doesn't go as planned, well, we'll just try again another time."

"I'll need to come with you, Carlisle," I interrupted. "To get the blood. That way I can make sure there aren't any _real_ humans nearby while you prepare it, just in case Emmett loses it and runs toward you."

He looked back at me doubtfully. "I don't think so, Edward. It would be quite painful for you." _You know your control hasn't been as strong ever since you came back._

I crossed my arms stubbornly. "I want to do it. I'll consider it an exercise for my control, as well. Anyway, a little sore throat is worth preventing another accident, don't you think?"

"Well, yes…"

"And besides, the test will work better, with me beside you. I'll be able to monitor Emmett's mind once we get close enough, and we'll be able to slow down or back up whenever we need to, to help him succeed."

He sighed. "All right, come on."

.

.

.

We ran quickly back to the place where we had hidden the blood. "No one nearby," I confirmed.

Carlisle kicked aside a mound of leaves and began to dig, mentally instructing me to prepare a small fire. "How was Emmett doing, when you could hear him last?"

"He had calmed down a bit. He's eager to prove himself, and even more eager for Rosalie to be proud of him."

Carlisle reached into the hole and pulled out one of the three bottles, shaking the ice off of the glass. My eyes were instantly drawn to the red, gelatinous mass inside. It was hard to imagine that it was the same substance as the blood covering the corpse of Emmett's accidental kill last month. I had struggled that day, to be sure, but I had been in control the whole time. I could do this.

When I had gotten a good fire going, Carlisle rolled up his right sleeve and held the bottle over the flame, unscrewing the lid with his other hand. A peculiar scent filled the air; not unpleasant, but hardly appetizing. I had never smelled blood this cold before, and I watched in fascination as my father spun the neck of the bottle between his fingers, letting it dance in and out of the flame.

The very idea of storing human blood in _any_ way was mind-boggling. A few years ago, it hadn't even been conceived of, by either species. The implications to human medicine were huge; as a vampire, of course, my mind was drawn to more macabre possibilities. I imagined our little-used icebox at home, now able to be stocked with our favorite beverage. It would be a simple matter for Carlisle to procure the blood; he would have to travel to several different hospitals in order for the theft to be overlooked, but it could be done. I imagined Esme wearing a little lace apron, standing at the stove and humming as she stirred a-

"Edward!" Carlisle's voice snapped me out of my fantasy and I instantly felt ashamed at what I had been thinking. I hadn't even noticed the subtle change in the aroma as the blood began to liquefy, but I noticed it now, and it was clearly affecting me. "I said, you'd better move back a bit. It's going to be warming up soon."

"It already is," I said in a scathing tone. I took my hand off my throat; when had it gotten there? I had to hand it to the monster; he wasn't usually this creative. Lace apron, indeed.

"Is it?" He leaned in, taking a whiff. "I can hardly notice a change, yet." _Your sensitivity must be even higher than I thought. __Move back._

"No."

He looked up at me. "It's only going to get worse."

"I can do this, Carlisle. I _need_ to do this."

He frowned. "Look, I appreciate your desire to desensitize yourself further, and we can do that together another time. But right now, I need you at your best. We're doing this for your brother, not for you."

"I don't really see the point," I scoffed. "This isn't going to desensitize him; it's going to torture him."

"I'm not _trying_ to desensitize him," he answered patiently. "It's much too early for that. I'm trying to help him with his physical and mental self-control. Up until now, we've done everything possible to keep him completely separated from the scent of humans. And it will be a long time before he's ready to begin true exposure. But his body needs to practice fighting its predatory instincts, if we're ever going to bring him back home with us. It's a simple matter of training the- Edward! For God's sake, stop breathing for a minute!"

I jumped back in alarm, his voice breaking through the fog that had been clouding my mind again. The blood's aroma was sweetening more with every second now, and I had been drawing subconsciously closer to the fire, my hand inching up towards the bottle. I clenched the traitorous fingers into a fist and turned away, holding my breath in defeat. Carlisle was right; this wasn't about me. I stretched out with my gift, making sure that Emmett wasn't suddenly appearing within my range.

He wasn't there, of course. Unlike me, Emmett _knew_ his limitations. Unlike me, he was _prepared_ for this exercise. What had I been thinking?! That just because I hadn't killed anyone recently, my sensitivity to blood would have just improved on its own? That my success at resisting the blood of Emmett's human kill somehow qualified me for the next round? That my control would somehow begin to bear even the slightest resemblance to my father's? Idiot!

"Are you all right?" Carlisle asked. I slowly turned back around, my eyes widening when they didn't find the bottle over the flame, where it belonged. The flow of venom increased and my muscles tensed in anger; where had he hidden it? How dare he take it from me!

But then I saw that he was just holding the bottle behind his back, keeping it out of my sight in an effort to help me calm down. Here I was, getting ready to attack him, and he was just trying to help me, as usual. "I'm fine," I snapped. "I'm going to move away now, like I should have done in the first place."

Through Carlisle's eyes, I watched myself melt away into the shadows. Once I was out of sight, he moved the blood back over the flame, taking care not to look down at it too much, for my sake. He just sighed as he heard me slam my fist into a tree that was blocking my path. _I knew this was a bad idea,_ he thought.

I knocked over another tree, enraged by his pity. Of course it had been a bad idea! Most of my ideas were, weren't they? I continued stalking through the woods until I was half a mile away. I inhaled carefully, gladly accepting the punishing burn in my throat. "I'm half a mile closer to camp," I said in a normal voice. "Still no sign of him. Can you still hear me?" I inhaled again, clenching my teeth against the pain.

_Yes, I can hear you. __Are you SURE you're all right?_

I forced my jaws to relax, determined to sound calm. "Yes. I'm fine. I'm sorry."

Carlisle just shook his head, peeking down at the bottle again and giving it a shake to distribute the heat. The pain in my throat grew as I saw the warmer edges of the blood swish around the gelatinous mass in the center. Understanding finally dawned on me; the reason that I had been able to resist the corpse was that the blood hadn't been moving anymore. I hadn't taken into account my delay while I had been waiting for my hand to heal. By the time I had reached my family, the man had already been dead for over five minutes. But _this_ blood was different. The rising aroma, the movement inside the glass- I shuddered at my failure. I had really thought that I was _better_ than this. I had thought that I was improving. I had actually thought that I would be able to get through medical school! What a joke.

I continued breathing for several minutes, determined to make the most of the experience; but I wouldn't let Emmett down. I strained with the effort, the monster pulling me in one direction and my mind focused in the other direction. The thirst raked at my throat until I finally began to lose my concentration, and I grudgingly held my breath again. With my air cut off, the pain began to recede and I regained control over my gift again. Still no sign of Emmett.

_Edward, I've got it ready and I'm coming closer. __Maybe you should hold your breath for this part._

"I'm fine now," I lied. "Anyway, I'll just stay a bit ahead of you; it'll give my range a boost." Through Carlisle's mind I saw him get up and kick the fire out. He began to walk forward, and I stumbled away from him, away from the blood. We walked slowly back toward the camp, keeping the half-mile between us the whole time. There was hardly any wind, so that made our task easier. Carlisle was continually swishing the bottle as he walked, to keep the blood from coagulating. He was still being careful not to look at it, but only for my sake. I could tell that his own thirst was a gentle tickle in the back of his throat; there was no venom flow whatsoever. Carlisle would say that his iron control was due to centuries of practice, and of denial. But he had tasted human blood less than a month ago, when he had changed Emmett; and _still_, he was barely affected! I wasn't sure whether to be awestruck or angry. I was both, at any rate.

_…__hear me, get Carlisle to…__about to lose it…_

I stopped in my tracks when Rosalie's thoughts trickled into my mind. I turned around. "Stop for a moment," I called. Carlisle halted immediately and covered the bottle opening with his hand, waiting for me to speak again. I ran forward a bit, wanting to get a clearer picture of how Emmett was doing. I finally saw him through Rosalie's eyes; he was sitting on the ground, his body scrunched up like a pretzel as he trembled with effort.

_Not gonna do it. __Not gonna do it. __Not gonna do it._

I smiled proudly; my brother's physical control was being pushed to the limit, but I was pleased with his focus. The pain in my own throat grew as I registered his outrageous thirst, and it only made me more impressed with him.

"He's all right for now," I called back to Carlisle in a louder voice. "Let's give him a couple of minutes." We were already two and a half miles from the rest of our family, and I was beginning to think that Emmett could actually pass the test, if we went slow enough.

I waited for Emmett to stop trembling, and then we advanced again, more slowly this time. Emmett was moaning in pain now, but he was determined to complete the challenge. Rosalie was standing over him anxiously, kneading his shoulders in an effort to help him relax.

I could tell from experience when we hit the mile mark; it was around this point where I had to exert more effort to keep someone's thoughts away, than to hear them. Carlisle had stopped as well, having recognized the place where he had been intending to stop all along. _He did it! __Why don't you go ahead and speak to him. __I'm going to wait a minute, and then I'm going to spill the blood on the ground. __I'll get your attention when I'm about to do it._

I ran the rest of the way, finding Emmett still scrunched up on the ground. His fingers were laced behind his neck and his eyes were closed as he continued his mantra.

_Not gonna do it. __Not gonna do it._

"You did it, Emmett!" I announced as I came out of the trees. His eyes popped open and he grinned.

"I did? He's only a mile away?" I nodded, and he jumped to his feet, whooping in triumph. Rosalie tackled him to the ground, peppering his face with congratulatory kisses.

I held up my hands. "Hold on, there's one more challenge. Carlisle is going to spill the blood on the ground shortly, so that you can experience the scent for a few more minutes. I'll give you some warning, though."

Rosalie frowned as she looked at my eyes. "You're a mess, Edward."

I just glared at my sister. Her eyes were their usual gold, of course. Why wouldn't they be? At least Emmett's eyes were as black as my own, and Esme was experiencing a _little_ discomfort. "Gee, thanks," I muttered back. Then I cocked my head, listening. "Carlisle is going to spill the blood now."

We all tensed as the delicious scent suddenly doubled around us. The blood wasn't as warm anymore, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been; still, Emmett began trembling again and I closed my eyes in frustration as my throat burst in fresh flames. The scent began to degrade before long, and Carlisle appeared, wearing a huge smile.

"Well done, Emmett!" he said proudly. "The test is officially over." Emmett bowed theatrically and we all gave him our applause.

"Well, that was… fun," Emmett said when he was able to speak again. _Not._

Carlisle grinned mischievously. "I'm glad you think so, because there are two more bottles." Emmett just groaned, and Esme and Rosalie laughed at him. "But we'll wait a while for that. Esme is in charge of the next game, and I think you deserve a little hunt first."

_Hunt. Yes__._ Emmett rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "All right, let's go."

Carlisle waved his hand dismissively. "Why don't you and Edward go on ahead? I don't think the rest of us need anything."

Emmett spun around. "You mean it? I can go hunting with just one person?" _Maybe I can go with Rose sometime._

"I think you've earned a bit more freedom, after your success," Carlisle said kindly. _And Edward needs to hunt, too._ He glanced at me apologetically, and I nodded in reluctant agreement.

Emmett punched me in the arm and jerked his head toward the forest. "Come on, Eddie. Let's go kill something."

"Edward," I growled as I followed after him.

.

.

**A/N: Still looking for a couple more vampire sport ideas!**


	11. Vampire Olympics Part III

**Super big thank you to Helena Mira for her help with the literacy section of this chapter! And my sister, as well. Who knew teaching a vampire to read would be so difficult?**

**Thank you also to RosieHorgan7 for suggesting the swimming competition. Since your penname is Rosie I decided that it would be Rosalie's idea :) **

We found a small herd of deer less than three miles away. Not exactly appetizing, but it would do. I waved my hand toward the animals, and Emmett sprung forward, killing two at once. Once he began to drink, I attacked as well, wasting no time in satisfying my raging thirst. It was a shame that we hadn't found anything better- I could have used a good tussle with a mountain lion, right about now. Even after I had cooled the burn in my throat, my venom was still flowing in anger as I remembered my failure with the blood. After my third deer, I finally looked up to see Emmett tossing one aside, as well. There was one deer left alive, bouncing around the clearing in a skittish dance, unsure which way to run.

"Go ahead," I said, nodding to the deer. I could have used more, but newborns always got fed first.

Emmett touched his throat, looking at the deer with little interest. Then he snapped his eyes back to mine, an evil grin spreading over his face. "I'll fight you for it," he offered, leaning toward me in anticipation.

That was all I needed to hear. I flew at him, releasing all my anger and self-disgust with a feral roar. He blinked in surprise and put his hands up defensively. _Whoa. __Down, boy!_ He recovered himself and roared back, knocking my frontal attack aside with a sweep of his huge arm. I twisted as I fell, springing back onto him with such ferocity that I actually managed to topple him. My success only fueled my rage, and I dove at his throat with every intention of truly biting him. He got his arm up just in time, slamming his elbow into my face as I came toward him. The blow snapped my head backwards, and in the corner of my eye, I saw the deer escaping into the woods. The monster screamed in starved anger inside of me, and when I saw Emmett jumping to his feet, intending to catch the deer, I attacked him again. I was too furious to think clearly now, and Emmett easily slammed his open hand into my face, locking his fingers in my hair and holding me away from him with a maddening chuckle. I lashed out blindly, and an awful screech sounded as I felt my nails catch on something.

"Ow! What's the _matter_ with you!?" Emmett yelled, grabbing his face and kicking me away.

I took a ragged breath, forcing myself to stand down. "I'm sorry!" I panted. "Are you hurt?"

He lowered his hand, revealing a huge tear in his cheek right below the eye. It was healing quickly. "I'm fine," he growled. "What's gotten into you?"

"It was the blood," I gasped, still breathing heavily. "I had more trouble than I expected."

"Oh." _Is that all? __I'm the newborn here! __I mean, it smelled awesome, but I'm over it._

I just glared at him as I continued to breathe heavily, struggling with the urge to attack him again. I hadn't felt this wild in ages- not since the time I had almost killed a human back in our Montana home in 1931. Emmett was right; I needed to calm down. I had failed, yes, but there was no blood near me now. It was gone. I was in control. I stopped panting instantly, and released the tension in my hands.

Emmett crossed his arms, watching me with disgust. "Well, do you feel better, now that you ripped my face in half?" _Smashing stuff always made ME feel better, anyway._

"Yes. I do, actually." Interesting. "Thanks."

He just cracked his knuckles, looking wistfully in the direction that the deer had run. "Anytime, bro." _But if you ever scratch me again, you're going to find yourself missing another hand._

"Deal. So, since we're alone, how about a reading lesson?"

Emmett grimaced, remembering all the headaches he had gotten as a human in school. "Okay."

We buried our kills and sat down at the edge of the clearing, where the dirt was the flattest.

"All right. Why don't we start with-"

"Rosalie."

"What?"

"I want to learn how to write Rosalie, so I can do the bowling ball."

I shrugged, leaning forward to smooth out the dirt in front of us. When I had a nice surface ready, I reached up and plucked a pencil-sized twig off of a low-hanging branch. I was about to write out my sister's name, when I thought better of it.

"You write it," I said, handing him the twig. "I'll tell you the letters." I could only guess at how much of his dyslexia had been cured by the venom, and I wanted to see him in action before I began teaching him anything.

Emmett frowned, looking at the twig in suspicion. "Okay, but go slow." He was already holding the "pencil" incorrectly, and I gently moved his fingers into the correct position.

"R."

"Big one, or little one?"

"Big. The rest will be little."

He lowered his hand to the dirt and got to work, the twig snapping in his hand before he could complete the letter. I made him a new one, and he finished the "R", making quick work of the "o" as well.

The "s" was next, and I was disappointed to see him make it backwards. I didn't say anything yet; but it appeared that the alphabet would have to be our next stop. I was even more surprised to see that he also wrote the lower case "e" backwards; I hadn't expected that, since he had written it correctly in his name, during the high jump event.

We finally got through the word, and then I wrote it myself, pointing out the two corrections. He copied my writing perfectly, with no further mistakes.

"Good. Now I want you to write the entire alphabet, big letters and small ones." I glanced up, hoping I hadn't insulted him; but he was already deep in concentration.

He sang the song to himself as he wrote. It was hard to imagine that this was the same three-hundred pound vampire whom I had just been battling, and who had killed an innocent man just last month. He looked like a timid child, kneeling in the dirt and writing hesitantly with his brow furrowed and his tongue sticking out in concentration. It was equally fascinating to watch his thought process as he reached back into his human memories to find each letter's shape; since he had never been truly literate, he had to actively recall each one. He was quite unsure of himself, and with good reason. Some of the letters were backwards, and the lower case "f" was upside down. He kept switching which case he wrote first, and the "H" came before the "G". The upper and lowercase "Q" were hardly recognizable. I resisted the urge to correct him as he went. I didn't know much about teaching, but I knew plenty about newborns: if I wanted this to work, I was going to have to be extremely patient, and we were going to have to go at his pace.

He sped up as he wrote, once he realized that going slow wasn't going to help. He finally let out a breath and leaned back in satisfaction, surveying his work. I was relieved to see that the picture in his mind exactly matched what he had written, poorly done as it was. Hopefully this meant that the dyslexia itself had been cured, and that I simply needed to correct the faulty learning that he had done as a human.

"Before I write it myself, do you see any errors?" I asked. He leaned over again, glancing through his work.

"Nope. Everything seems to be where I left it. And I don't have a headache! So, is it… bad?"

I shrugged, taking the twig from him. "There are several things to correct, but I think that's just because your mind learned them wrong when you were human. It's going to be much easier this time, trust me." I wrote out the alphabet again, his eyes trained on my hand the whole time.

"I don't see anything different."

I frowned, looking into his mind curiously. He was comparing the two alphabets, and he was clearly processing the corrections I had made. How did that not translate into "seeing anything different?"

"All right, look at the lowercase 'b', for example. Do you see how you wrote it facing that way, and I wrote it facing the other way?"

His brow furrowed again as he looked back and forth between the two. "Yes…" _They look different, but they're both little "b"s._

"Well, my way is correct. It has to face that way."

"Okay."

I pointed out several other differences, with little reaction from his mind. It seemed that he could see the differences, but didn't realize that only one way had been correct. I decided that his brain was indeed cured from inaccurately processing his visual stimuli, but that he still had to learn that there was an "absolute" correct form for each letter.

He wrote the alphabet again, more quickly this time and with no mistakes. I erased our dirt board, and made him do it from memory.

"Perfect," I announced, much to his delight.

"This is great! I could never do that before!" He wrote "Rosalie" again, grinning at his easy accomplishment.

"Like I said, piece of cake. Now, let's go over the sounds that each letter can make." I had him write the alphabet a third time, and I demonstrated all the possible sounds that each letter could make, and Emmett repeated them all back to me, his new phonographic memory creating tables in his mind as he went. It was curious to see that he couldn't seem to decide to how to organize the tables, though with each method that his brain tried, the information was always stored correctly. I was about to get into diphthongs, when I heard Rosalie's thoughts enter my mind.

"Rosalie's coming," I said, wiping out the alphabet. "But you did well today. Next time we'll start putting the letters together."

_Sounds like fun._"Hi, Rosalie!"

Rosalie changed her course, running quickly toward Emmett's voice. "There you are! We were getting worried."

Emmett wrapped her in a bear hug, kissing the top of her hair. "I'm done now. Let's go back."

Rosalie smiled proudly. "We've all been talking about how proud we are of you. Carlisle says he thinks we might move back home tonight!"

"That's good. I can't wait to see this garage you've been telling me about. I want to see you in action." _In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing her in the garage, wearing-_

I groaned, jamming my fists into my eyes to erase the image. "For the love of all that's holy, Emmett! She's my _sister!"_

He just shrugged. "Don't like, don't look."

"I can't _help_ it!"

He just snorted in amusement, looking down at Rosalie to make sure she wasn't offended. But she was busy coming up with an equally offensive image in her mind about Emmett. I just growled in exasperation, then had an idea. "Hold your breath, Emmett!" I shouted.

The images stopped, and Emmett slapped his hand to his nose as he exhaled.

"Less than a quarter of a second. Not bad."

Rosalie just pouted at me. _He's been doing well.__That wasn't necessary._

I just shook my head as I stalked ahead of them, back toward the camp. "Yes, it was," I threw over my shoulder, "It most certainly was."

.

.

.

Rosalie and Emmett got back to camp a full two minutes after I did, both thinking about the kiss they had just shared. They were relieved to have finally stolen a few moments together.

It turned out that while we had been gone, Rosalie had convinced Esme to hold a swimming contest. It was nearly dark now, and we ran across the North Carolina border, to the nearby Hiwassee River. I scouted ahead to make sure there were no campers nearby. Fortunately, an early snow was falling, and it seemed that nobody wanted to brave the weather.

We decided to all race at once, the goal being an ancient oak that had fallen across the water, two miles downstream. Esme made it clear that no one was to make any noise, now that we were closer to the Marina. We were all kneeling down on the bank, ready to dive in, when Carlisle suddenly stood up, a peculiar smile on his face.

"What is it?" Esme asked.

Carlisle didn't answer right away. He was kneeling down on another riverbank, his ten-year-old face reflected in the water. Two other boys knelt beside him, and several other friends were shouting their encouragement as he jumped into the water, his thoughts racing with excitement as he quickly outpaced his two friends. He slithered up onto the far bank and waved his fists in the air triumphantly, accepting the praise of his friends. The smaller of his fellow swimmers, a lanky boy with red hair, clambered up onto the grass and tackled Carlisle, sending them both tumbling back into the water, a tangled mass of arms, legs, and laughter.

"A human memory," he said absently, struggling to recall more of the scene. He recalled two other memories of swimming races; both of them contained the red-haired boy. He then recalled several other scenes with the boy in them. It appeared they had had many adventures together, and gotten into all sorts of trouble.

"Thomas!" Carlisle said suddenly. "My best friend." _I can't believe I've never remembered him before! __He was the… blacksmith's son. __I wish I could remember more! __I wonder whatever became of him._

"That's nice," Emmett said impatiently. "Now let's go! One, two, three!"

We all jumped forward, dipping into the water with varying amounts of grace. As Emmett was sailing through the air, he decided to tuck himself into a cannonball. When he finally landed, he created a tidal wave which sent the rest of us tumbling on ahead. Carlisle was unusually focused, and delighting in the fact that his body seemed to remember the swimming races, as well. He shot ahead, reaching the dead oak a full thirty seconds before me. He climbed up onto the tree and waited for everyone else, his feet dangling in the shallows. I finally touched the goal, and promptly leapt up out of the water, grabbing around his neck and pulling him back in with me. We wrestled for a moment underwater and came up laughing, just as Esme swam up beside us.

"Hm! Nobody said this was a wrestling match, as well!" she scolded, eyeing the new tear in Carlisle's shirt.

Carlisle chuckled as he shook out his hair, climbing up onto the bank again. "Edward was just reenacting one of my human memories," he explained. _Thank you, son. __That was nice._ _And… you're all right? __About the blood?_

Iwaited until Esme looked away, and then I met his gaze, nodding slightly. Carlisle smiled back in relief. _You seemed much better after you and Emmett went hunting. __I think having a brother is going to be good for you._

I just shrugged and looked back over the water. "Where are Rosalie and Emmett?"

We waited for ten more seconds, and then I stretched out, listening. "They're still by the starting line," I reported. Then I shuddered, pulling quickly away from their minds. "And they're kissing, underwater. A _lot_."

Esme couldn't have been happier. "Oh, this is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad she found him."

"Let's give them some time alone," Carlisle agreed, winking at me. "But not _too_ much time."

.

.

.

Emmett wanted to try a log-tossing competition next.

"Why would anyone want to throw a log?" Rosalie asked distastefully.

Emmett stuck out his chest. "I may be a vampire, but I'm still Scottish," he said proudly. _I want to know how far I can do it now._

"I'm afraid we'll have to save that one for a another time, son," Carlisle said. "We're much too close to humans here. The sound of the log when it lands would be audible for several miles, and there's no telling _where_ it would land. Perhaps sometime we could head up into Northern Canada for that one."

Emmett growled in disappointment. _Man_, _I really wanted to throw something._

"How about a javelin event?" I suggested.

"Perhaps with a target," Esme added.

We all agreed it was a good plan. Emmett selected a petrified tree for the target, tearing away the ancient bark and scratching a bulls-eye on the bared trunk. The rest of us worked on the spears, using our fingernails to carve points onto the straightest branches we could find. After a few experimental throws, it was decided that we would stand five hundred feet back- it was the farthest we could go and still have a clean view to the target. The event was surprisingly difficult, what with the irregular shape of each spear, and the fact that they shattered on impact more often than not. Rosalie was the winner this time.

We were all cheering for her, when Esme held up her hand for silence. "I think Emmett is ready for the final challenge. Carlisle?"

He led us back to the sack of equipment, and began pulling out the mysterious items I had seen in his mind the other day: two cartons of eggs, some champagne glasses wrapped in towels, and a bottle of soap bubbles. I regretted now that I hadn't been watching Carlisle when he had returned to camp; he must have looked like Santa Claus with his pack of toys.

"We're not cooking, are we?" Emmett asked warily.

"No, we're doing something much more difficult," Esme told him. "Carlisle and I both think that you're just about ready to come home with us to the house. If you continue to do well with the blood challenges, you'll be ready to live a few miles from our neighbors. But if you want _me_ to let you anywhere near my living room, then you need to practice your… gentleness." She took an egg out of the carton and tossed it to Emmett, who reflexively caught it, grimacing at the slimy result.

"I think I'll pass on this one," Carlisle said as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I'm going to get the second bottle of blood ready. You'll smell it in several minutes, and I'll come toward you slowly, like before." I moved to go with him, but he shook his head. _Not this time, Edward. __I'm perfectly capable of smelling any human that comes with two miles of my location._ I clenched my teeth in anger, but only for a moment; he was right. He didn't really need me. And it wasn't _his_ fault that I couldn't handle it.

Emmett nodded absently to Carlisle, trying in vain to shake the egg white off of his arm. _Blood that I can't have, and now egg goo. __Why can't we just do log-tossing?_

"This time, try to catch it without breaking it," Esme instructed in her teacher-voice. Soon Emmett's right arm was covered in raw egg, and we were all backing away from the awful smell. He finally caught the seventh egg successfully, and broke only two more before the rest were gone. He bent down and picked up a few of the whole ones, tossing them to himself, higher and higher. Soon he was juggling five eggs with ease.

Next and more difficult was the champagne glass challenge. Not only did Emmett have to catch the glass when it was thrown at him, but Esme filled it halfway with water and he had to avoid spilling any of it. The first glass shattered on impact with Emmett's granite hand, but he learned more quickly this time. No more glasses were broken, and he was soon juggling those, as well.

But then a breeze stirred, and he caught the first whiff of blood. He froze in place, his head whipping toward the delicious aroma as the champagne glasses fell and shattered on the rocky ground at his feet.

"Take it easy," I said calmly. "Try to stay standing this time."

He nodded, clenching his fists at his sides. _I can do this. __I did it before._

I stopped breathing as the aroma came closer; there was no point in suffering needlessly, since I also had to endure an echo of Emmett's thirst, courtesy of my gift.

Emmett did rather well. He still trembled with effort as the blood got closer, but he was able to stay on his feet without running off, and he also kept his eyes open as he breathed. Carlisle came a bit closer than before, and when he was three-quarters of a mile away, he poured out the blood as he had done the first time, having me alert the others beforehand. Emmett sighed in relief when he saw Carlisle return.

"Very well done!" Carlisle said, clapping Emmett on the shoulder. "Now, the last time will come without warning, so that will be the real challenge. But I'm very proud of your performance so far. Now, what did I miss while I was gone?" He eyed the broken glass on the ground with amusement.

"He did very well, with the eggs and with the glasses," Esme said. "But now for the hardest one of all." She opened the soap bubbles, sending a stream of them into the air. Emmett reached up and popped several on purpose.

"No," Esme said, laughing. "You have to catch them!"

Soon we were all doubled over with laughter as we watched Emmett dance around the camp, trying to catch Esme's bubbles. He finally got a big one to rest in his palm, holding it aloft and nodding at our applause.

"Okay, _now _can we go home?" Rosalie asked impatiently. _I want a shower! __My hair is disgusting._

Carlisle looked around at the rest of us, and we all nodded our approval. "We're ready when you are, Emmett," he said kindly.

_Yes!_ "I think I should hunt, first. Edward, you wanna go catch a bite?"

I shook my head. "I'm good."

He glared at me. _Reading lesson._

"On second thought," I added quickly, "I am a little thirsty. Carlisle?"

He waved us away, and we took off, Rosalie's thoughts echoing behind us. _I wanted to go with him._

Emmett didn't need much; he was only feeling thirsty because of the latest blood challenge. After a quick "bite", we sat down in the dirt as we had done before.

"Rosalie was jealous, you know," I teased as I smoothed out our writing surface. "S_he _ wanted to be the one to go hunting with you alone." I punched him in the arm and he grinned.

_Hunting alone with Rose? __Yes… good idea. __Alone. __Very good idea._ His eyes grew wide.

"Emmett," I said in a warning tone. "She's still my sister. Behave yourself. And what's with the hurry on the reading? We'll have all the time in the world to work on it once we're back home."

At the word "home", Emmett's mind flashed a picture of the interior of his human home: a complicated, noisy scene, with family members of all ages packed into the tiny log cabin.

"No, it's not like that," I chuckled. "Vampires like their privacy, and there are only five of us in a large house. You can even have your own room, if you like. Now, let's get done what we can before Rosalie finds us again."

I had him write the alphabet again, and listened as he perfectly made all the possible sounds that each letter could make. Then I wrote out lists of vowel combinations and consonant combinations, and pronounced all _their_ possible sounds.

Emmett found these more difficult. "I don't see why 'ou' wants to make all those different sounds," he growled. "It doesn't make sense."

"It depends on the word that it's in."

"Well, that's stupid! Why don't they always say the same thing?"

"That's just the way English is. There are rules for spelling and pronunciation, but they're broken fairly often."

"Well, let's learn a different language, then."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in annoyance. "Just memorize them, Emmett."

He growled again and turned back to his lesson. It was a good thing that he had his new photographic memory, or we both would have given up by now.

After he had memorized those lists, I wiped the dirt clean and started writing some three-letter words. I had seen in Esme's mind once how she had used "word families" to teach her students.

_sat_

_hat_

_cat_

_bat_

"Okay, now all these words have the 'at' sound in them," I began.

Emmett eyed the words suspiciously. _A-t. __At. __Okay, I get that._

"Good. Now, using the letter sounds that you've learned, see if you can read the words."

He made it through "sat" and "hat" all right. But when he got to "cat", he pronounced it "sat".

"No, see, you already said that one. Remember how 'sat' was s-a-t?"

"But you said a 'c' could make that sound, too."

"Yes, but not in this word."

He frowned. "Why not?"

"Because it just doesn't."

"But why _not_?"

I bared my teeth at him. "Just memorize the word!"

_Fine._"Cat," he ground out. "And…" he looked at the last word, his mind freezing up in a panic. "Bat," he said hesitantly.

"That's right. What's the matter?"

"'B's make me nervous."

"I don't see why. You're not dyslexic anymore."

"I'm not what?"

"The reason you couldn't read before was that you had a disorder called dyslexia. Your brain sometimes saw things the wrong way, and that's why you had trouble with letters flipping around, or going in the wrong place. I imagine you had the same problem with numbers."

_Yup. _"And that's… fixed now?"

I nodded. "Not only that, but you have perfect recall now. If I wanted to, I could just write out thousands of words and have you memorize them."

"Well, why don't you? This is a waste of time."

"Because if you don't learn how to sound out words, you won't be able to figure out new ones. And you're doing well, Emmett. This is much faster than a human could learn." At least, I hoped it was. _I _certainly had no basis for comparison. "Now, I want you to write the word 'mat'."

He frowned again. "How do I write that?"

"It's an 'at' word, just like the others. Just use the sounds you know to figure out the other letter."

He thought for a moment, and then took the twig from my hand.

_at m_

"Well, the 'm' is right, but it's not in the right place. Try again."

He wiped the word out, and wrote it again.

_atm_

I frowned, looking into his mind. He understood the "–at" sound, and he understood the "m" sound. What was he missing?

"It's an '-at' word, like the others," I said slowly, waiting for him to understand. "They all rhyme."

Emmett just stared at me in confusion.

"You _do_ know what rhyming means, don't you?"

"Of course I know what rhyming means! What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well…" I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. Perhaps the venom hadn't cured all of the dyslexia, after all. Or maybe I was just a lousy teacher. "Well, rhyming means that all the words end with the same sound, right?"

He scrunched his eyes shut, saying the words in his head. "Right. So what?"

I frowned. "So that means that the words all have to end with the 'at' part, when you write or read it."

"Why?"

"Because, if I read it like that, the word is 'atm'," I said, emphasizing the 'm' at the end. "And that's not even a word."

Emmett frowned down at the word he had written, and suddenly slammed his fist into the dirt, replacing the word with a small crater. "I can't do this," he growled. "I never could."

"You can do this. You just have to… wait."

I had an idea. What if the dyslexia itself had been cured, but not his approach to learning? Maybe this was a simpler problem than it appeared. "Why exactly did you put the 'm' at the end, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I just picked a spot."

I wasn't interested in his verbal answer; I was watching his subconscious thought _while_ he answered. He was mentally grumbling about how letters never stay where you put them, and about how he was too stupid to figure out where every letter went, every time. He was glad that they were done flipping, but he still didn't "trust" them; he was holding onto a defensive fantasy in which letters and numbers, and even sometimes pictures, had a malicious will of their own. From the childish tone of the fantasy, it was obvious that he hadn't attempted reading in several years.

"I think I see the problem," I said aloud. "You're remembering all the times that you tried to read as a human. And the letters and shapes and numbers… misbehaved, correct? They didn't always appear the right way to you?"

Emmett furrowed his brow. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"So even when you saw the words I had written, it didn't occur to you that 'mat' would be spelled the same as them, because you thought the 'm' would just go wherever it felt like?"

"Yeah." _You can't trust 'em._

"Ah. Well, see, now that the venom has cured the disorder, you _can_ trust them. 'Mat' will always be m-a-t, no matter what, and you can trust any 'at' word to end that same way."

Emmett sat staring at me for a full minute, his mind racing as he reorganized the tables he had formed earlier in the day. I watched in fascination as his system morphed from a random smattering of letters and sounds to a well-organized, cross-referenced mental file. There were thousands of empty spaces in the file: words that Emmett was now curious about how to spell. I would simply have to supply the facts, and they would be locked in his steel memory forever.

Emmett finally nodded, ready to continue. I challenged him to spell vat, fat, and even flat; he answered perfectly every time, without hesitation.

Now we were getting somewhere. I wrote out several words in the "ot" family next. He mastered my list, and wrote several new ones without me prompting him, in less than thirty seconds. I nodded in approval, and began with another word family.

_pin_

_thin_

_win_

"_There_ you two are!" Esme said from behind us, and I jumped up in surprise. How had I not heard her coming?!

Emmett quickly swiped his hand across the dirt before standing up; he was still embarrassed about his illiteracy.

Esme crossed her arms and sighed, frowning at the new grass stains on our clothes. "_What_ were you two doing out here?" Vampire or not, she still had a way of making us feel like two kids who'd gotten caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Emmett looked down at his shirt, remembering our fight earlier. "We were just having our own little athletic challenge- wrestling." I nodded in agreement, sheepishly looking down at my own ruined clothing. Emmett had torn a huge hole in my shirt-tail when he had kicked me away the last time.

_Boys. _Esme's mouth twitched up in a smile, and I grinned when I saw my brother and I through her eyes. Besides the tear in his shirt, Emmett had a huge smear of dried deer's blood on his arm, and my hair was one huge snarl sticking straight up from my head.

"Well, those shirts were doomed anyway. Come on, Carlisle wants to get going soon." She turned and we eagerly followed her back to camp; it was time to go home.

.

**A/N: A couple things. First of all, I have added a summary on my profile about the entire Tale of Years series- go check it out! Also I wanted to recommend a couple of my favorite stories that are in progress right now (and both updated frequently):**

**_Jewel in the Crown_****, by Helena Mira- a novel-length story that takes place mostly in Volterra. I won't give away much else but it is a canon-friendly AU that splits off from the main timeline when Bella goes to stop Edward from his suicide attempt. Let's just say that Edward and Bella don't make their easy "escape" from Aro like they did in New Moon. Very well written, and lots of in-canon goodies from the Illustrated Guide. The plot has gotten very complex (yet totally well-managed) and is currently in the nail-biting stage!**

**_What Others Cannot Do_****, by Robin deLynn- another canon-friendly prequel, though set much earlier than mine; it begins in the last days of Edward's human life. It takes a very deep look at Carlisle's decision to change Edward, the transformation, and Edward's struggles as a newborn. There are lots of funny moments and newborn mishaps but the author takes a very good look at Edward's psychological journey in his first few months. Also very sweet Carlisle/Edward early bonding, and lots of foreshadowing toward future character issues. **

**_Frightened_****, by RenJoelle- I just found this one the other day and it's fairly new, but looks very promising. Since it's only a few chapters yet I won't say much other than it's a very interesting AU version of Edward meeting Bella. **


	12. Home at Last

Emmett whistled in admiration when our house finally came into view. Rosalie just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door; she couldn't decide whether she wanted to show him the garage first, or go get a shower.

Carlisle, Esme and I were much more tense. I was anxiously listening for any humans nearby, but thankfully there were none, at least not at this hour of the night.

"Here's your first real test," Rosalie said. Emmett reached for the doorknob, handling it like a glass sculpture rather than wrought iron. He stuck his tongue out in concentration, gently turning the knob and pushing the door open.

The front door opened into the living room. The room seemed smaller than usual, with our six-foot-five newborn inside it. We watched in amusement as he gingerly lowered himself onto the couch, grinning up at us when he didn't break it. Esme sighed in relief, and he jumped up proudly, snapping the couch's wooden frame with his take off.

"Emmett!" we all groaned. He muttered an apology and then laughed along with the rest of us.

"It's all right," Esme sighed. "I'll get a new one."

He walked curiously around the rest of the room, stopping in front my piano and lifting his hand toward it.

"Don't even think about it," I growled, stepping toward him in warning. "The piano is most _definitely_ off limits."

Emmett was especially amused by the kitchen. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose when he smelled the food in the cabinets.

"Just for appearances," Esme explained. "It's quite rare that anyone comes by, but you never know. And I do bake occasionally, for events at the hospital."

After the kitchen was the garage. Emmett was impressed with our vehicles, and even more so with Rosalie's knowledge, which far surpassed his own. He just watched her indulgently as she flitted around the room, showing him this tool, or that part. She was just lifting the hood of the Eagle when Carlisle announced that we should continue with the tour, and that the two of them could check out the cars later.

After a brief stop in Carlisle's study, we showed him the upstairs, ending with my room. "You'll share with Edward for a little while, until I can get the other room ready," Carlisle explained.

Rosalie frowned. "But I told-"

"My room will be fine," I said sharply, crossing my arms. All that nonsense with the human boys had merely been practice; now it was time for the overprotective brother to come into his own. I had no illusions about where Rosalie and Emmett were going to end up, but in the meantime, I intended to make sure that Emmett behaved himself. I felt a small smile creeping over my face as I imagined building iron bars over Rosalie's doorway; rather ridiculous, considering not only Emmett's strength, but also fact that bedrooms meant little to our kind. They were really just places to store our personal belongings.

Emmett looked back and forth between the two of us, his mouth hanging open. "Think I'll stay with Edward," he mumbled finally. _Kinda awkward with them standing right there. A__nd Eddie's got that creepy smile going._

Carlisle cleared his throat nervously; he was feeling the awkwardness as well. "Yes, I think that would be best," he agreed, looking down at Esme for reassurance. "Perhaps later on we can discuss some more… permanent arrangements." _Well, this is a first. __How does the adopted father of an adult vampress deal with a suitor, whom he has also adopted? __And when that suitor is a newborn?_

Esme just smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. _This is going to be interesting._

.

.

.

As the guest of honor, Emmett was allowed the first shower, and was given a new set of clothes to change into. While he washed, the rest of us went through the house, making sure that all the doors and windows were firmly closed. We preferred fresh air, as a rule, even in the coldest weather. But in the beginning, at least, we wanted to keep human scents as far from Emmett as possible. Even with his success on the first two blood challenges, we knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he unexpectedly smelled a living, breathing human. It was nice to finally be able to relax my gift, now that Emmett was sealed inside the house and my constant surveillance wasn't required.

I was in the basement, latching the last window when I heard the most peculiar sound. It reminded me of the sound a dying animal might make, or perhaps the mating call of a large bird. I ran upstairs to find my sister and parents all looking at each other with the same curiosity. Then we all began laughing together as we realized what we were hearing: Emmett was singing in the shower. It was _awful_. Even Rosalie winced as he hit, or rather missed, a high note. It appeared venom couldn't cure everything.

I shook my head as I headed back down the stairs, determined to make some music of my own. I stopped in the kitchen to wash my hands first. Our skin had a tendency to stay cleaner than a human's, but even with our dips in streams and rivers, we had all gotten quite dirty in the past few weeks. Emmett and I were particularly filthy, what with our reading lessons in the dirt and our endless play-fighting.

I grinned up at the ceiling as I scrubbed my hands. Emmett's joyful, carefree spirit was exactly what our family had been missing all these years. Even now, as his tone-deaf screeching carried through the house, we all found ourselves walking with a lighter step. I personally had never had so much _fun_ before, and I had, more than once, heard Esme thinking how Emmett's presence was bringing out my optimistic side. So when I heard the bathroom door open, I sprinted up the stairs, my music forgotten.

"I'm next!" I announced, darting into my room for a clean set of clothes. But when I came back into the hallway, Rosalie shot past me, clutching her own clean laundry.

_Not on your life! _ She slammed the bathroom door behind her, and I heard her turning the lock. _I refuse to stay dirty for another second!_

"Oh, come on!" I shouted, pounding on the door. "You know you'll be in there for an hour!"

"Have you looked at your hair lately?" she called as the water started running. "You're the one who's going to be in here the rest of the day!"

Emmett walked up beside me, toweling off his hair. "She has a point, man. Is there a bird nesting in there?" I slapped his hand away from my head, and he snapped the towel at my face.

I heard a beautiful sound like wind chimes behind me, and I spun around. Esme was laughing at our antics, really _laughing_ in a way I had never seen before. _You should have seen the look on your face, Edward! __Well, now that our family has grown again, it looks like we might need another bathroom. __Just think, a house full of teenagers, and I'm only twenty-six!_

I pecked her on the cheek and flitted back downstairs to my piano; no point in standing in the hallway for an hour. I sat down, sighing in relief as my hands- still the only clean part of me- rested on the keys. I closed my eyes and began to play one of my favorite sonatas, humming along with the melody as it filled the quiet house. At least _Rosalie_ didn't sing in the shower.

"Hey, not bad, Eddie," a muffled voice said behind me. I turned to find Emmett sprawled on his back on the living room floor, surveying the damage he had done to the couch. I stopped playing and joined him, sticking my face down on the floor beside his to peek up at the cracked wood inside the frame.

"And _that's_ why the piano is off limits," I said, sitting back up.

Emmett shrugged. "Don't worry, not the musical type."

"Believe me, I know," I laughed.

Emmett reached under the couch, carefully straightening out the broken wood and tangled springs. "I want to fix this. I hate for her to have to buy a new one."

I directed him to the toolbox, and went back to my piano; I had an idea. I moved my fingers down an octave, a new melody bouncing out of the lower keys; this would be Emmett's theme. It was deep and energetic, and I started over several times until I was satisfied with the optimistic tone of the musical phrases. After a few measures, I shifted up to the higher keys, to work out a new theme for Rosalie. I had written one or two songs for her in the past, but they had been a bit mournful, and I hadn't even told her about them. But this time, only the ascending notes were mournful; I twisted one of my previous "Rosalie" melodies into a tune which sprang back toward middle C with an increasingly hopeful sound. This song would be about the two of them finding each other. I slowed it down just a bit, tweaking until I had a nice swing rhythm going. Emmett had returned with the toolbox now, and was tapping his foot while he worked. I switched back to the lower keys with my left hand, the bass melody drowning out the higher one, and over the course of the song, the two melodies drifted closer together until they were dancing around each other. The song ended with an energetic flourish, the notes tumbling upwards in a happy ending.

"Hey, I like that," Emmett said, his voice coming from under the couch again. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," I said carelessly, starting the song over again. "How's the couch coming along?"

"Hmph."

"I said, how's the couch coming along?" I could see from his mind that the damage was mostly repaired now; Emmett had been maintaining a log cabin his whole life.

He pulled out, sitting back up with a dejected expression. "The couch is fine," he sighed. "But I think I broke most of Carlisle's tools."

.

.

.

It only took six days for it to happen.

Emmett had gone out hunting a few times with either myself, Carlisle, or all of us. He spent the rest of his time with Rosalie, either watching her work in the garage, or sitting and talking with her in various parts of the house, occasionally stealing a kiss. He and I had been able to sneak in a couple of reading lessons here and there, but for the most part, he and Rosalie were inseparable.

So when she came sauntering down the stairs on Thursday night and announced that she was going hunting alone, I looked up at her with suspicion. I had been reclined on the couch for the past hour, losing myself in Steinback's latest novel, which I now dropped onto my chest as I zoomed in on my sister's thoughts. She didn't even bother to hide them from me this time; the plan was for Emmett to follow her one minute later.

I raised my eyebrows, and Rosalie froze on the staircase, in an uncanny resemblance to the scene several weeks earlier. In fact, her hand was resting only two inches from the gouges she had left when I had betrayed her plans with George.

She glared down at me. _This is different, Edward. __I'm an adult, and Emmett is the same species as I am. __I'll thank you to stay out of our business._ Before I had a chance to respond, she continued down the stairs and headed out the door.

I had to admit that she was right. She _was_ an adult, and he _was_ the right species. And even though I didn't approve of the choice they were making tonight, I really _didn't_ have any business getting involved. And Carlisle had already lectured me twice this week about staying out of it. So for once in my life, I decided to back off and mind my own business. I picked up my book again.

Exactly one minute later, Emmett came silently down the stairs, as well. This was a terrific feat in and of itself; we had already repaired the staircase three times this week. He was concentrating-a little too hard- on walking gently. But he was still unpracticed at hiding things from me, and I easily saw the plan in his mind, as well.

"Where's Rose?" he asked aloud, following the script they had agreed upon.

"Mmm? Oh, she went hunting, just a moment ago," Esme answered.

"I'm thirsty too. Think I'll see if I can't catch up to her," he mumbled, heading for the door. "Any neighbors around, Edward?"

I dutifully stretched out, listening. "Nothing."

_Sweet._ "Okay, be back in a while."

I shook my head, but I didn't say anything. As it turned out, I didn't need to.

"Emmett," Carlisle said quietly.

My brother froze, his hand on the doorknob. _Uh oh. _"What? It's the middle of the night, and I promise I'll stay with Rosalie."

Carlisle closed the book he had been reading and indicated the chair across from him with a nod. "Have a seat, son."

Emmett swallowed nervously and made his way to the chair, lowering himself into it carefully. _Mayday, mayday!_

Esme gave Carlisle an encouraging smile as she stood, setting aside her drawings. "I think I'll go join Rosalie," she announced, making her escape quickly. I thought about following her, but I was also curious to see how Carlisle was going to handle this. I rolled up into a sitting position, watching my father with amusement. I had never seen him so _nervous_ before! If he had been human, he would have been sweating and pulling his collar away from his neck. He stared at the floor for a moment, and then looked up at his newest son.

"Emmett, would I be correct in assuming that you and Rosalie aren't _really_ going hunting?"

_Busted._ "Uh… maybe…" _A little help, here, bro?_

I finally lost it. I snickered, clapping my hand to my mouth to stop the sound. "I'm sorry," I murmured from behind my hand, "but you're on your own for this one."

Carlisle shot me an exasperated look. "I'm not angry with you, Emmett. And I'm well aware that you and Rosalie are adults, and capable of making your own decisions. But she _is_ my daughter, and I'm sure you can appreciate my desire for things to follow a certain… order."

Emmett's brow furrowed in confusion. _What?_

I rolled my eyes. "He wants you to marry her first," I explained. "And I do, too."

"Oh! Oh. I guess I thought… uh…"

"You thought that vampires didn't bother with that," I interrupted.

"And it's true that many don't," Carlisle added. "But we consider ourselves to be a family, not just a coven. I'm very happy for you and Rosalie. But I want you to offer my daughter the highest level of respect, and that requires you to make the highest commitment possible. Anything less would be unworthy of her."

"But it's not like Rose has never-"

"That was not her choice," Carlisle interrupted sharply. "In fact, her traumatic experience gives me all the more reason to want to guard her virtue. And even though she might not have said anything to you, marriage was very important to Rosalie back before she was changed. I want this relationship – this marriage- to be the haven that she was denied in her human life. Surely you can appreciate that?"

I stared at my father in admiration. He hadn't planned any of this beforehand, and he was quickly working himself up into a passion. He had always been so permissive and apologetic with Rosalie, always living in the shadow of the "sin" that he had committed against her. But now that he finally had the chance to fulfill this particular role of the human father, he was jumping ahead full steam.

"I see what you're saying," Emmett said slowly, scratching the back of his head. "It's just that I was never… exactly… the marrying type." He cursed mentally, realizing how that had sounded. _Please, oh please, don't ask me how many women I've been with!_ He glanced at me, afraid that I would betray his past to Carlisle.

"That life is behind you," I said firmly. "You're a vampire now, Emmett."

"And Rosalie is your mate," Carlisle added. "And that means that you are going to love each other and be faithful to each other for rest of your existence. It's quite different from human love. Surely you've felt the difference."

Emmett just nodded. He had noticed, all right.

"This love that you have now is far greater than anything you would have been capable of before. It's the same love that I hold for my wife, and I am proud to call her such. If marriage is a significant commitment between two humans, it takes on a far greater meaning in _this_ existence. The choice is yours in the end, son. Yours and Rosalie's. But I hope you will do each other the honor of committing to each other in the deepest way possible. I hope you will choose to hold my daughter to be that sacred, that precious to you."

Emmett's eyes widened as he processed Carlisle's lofty speech. "Well, when you put it that way… but does she even _want_ to get married?"

"She does," I answered. "Believe me, she does." I might not be an expert on love, but I knew my sister. Rosalie had been very careful to hide her new daydreams from me. Some of them, involving Emmett, definitely needed to stay hidden. But I had also caught snatches of white dresses, of flowers, of a ring- yes, she wanted this. If nothing else, it was the ceremony she had been gearing up for in the final days of her human life. But strangely, she hadn't seemed to let herself _enjoy_ the daydreams. Because of the nature of her death, and because of the living death she considered her existence to be now, she didn't seem to feel that she should be worthy of such a ceremony. But most of all, she didn't want to initiate the topic with Emmett. My sister might be an unorthodox woman, but she still wanted to be _asked_. And even if she might feel, deep down, that she didn't deserve marriage, there was no denying the fact that she would love a _wedding_.

Emmett leaned forward, staring at his hands and thinking. _Well now… I want to marry her too, then._ He looked back up at Carlisle with a grin. "So, is this the part where I ask you for permission, or was that before you adopted me?"

Carlisle laughed, appreciating the irony of the situation. "I think we can skip that part. Sufficed to say, you have my blessing to ask her."

Emmett nodded, picturing a diamond ring. Then his smile faded somewhat. "Oh. I guess it'll be a while though, won't it? I mean, so I don't eat the preacher and all..."

Carlisle laughed, rising to his feet and shaking Emmett's hand in congratulations. "I think I can manage in a pinch, son. I was training to be a preacher in my human life, after all- and while I was never officially ordained, I do remember seeing my father preside over plenty of weddings. If you'll have me, of course."

"That's fine," Emmett said quickly, relieved to have a quicker option. "But... I mean, will it be, you know, a real marriage? Legal, and all?"

I snorted. "As legal of any of _us_ are."

"You've probably been declared dead by now, Emmett," Carlisle said gently. "I can't acquire any legal document for the marriage, using your real name. But I'll draw something up. My own marriage certificates are always... homemade, as well. Esme and I did have an ordained priest officiate for us, but with each move, well... you understand."

Emmett coughed out a laugh, shaking his head as he imagined Carlisle forging documents and counterfeiting money in a dark room. "So... okay. I guess that covers everything except the asking part."

Carlisle nodded, looking slightly more relaxed now. "And if I were you," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I wouldn't waste any time."

"Yes, sir!" Emmett jumped up and headed for the door again.

"Wait," I said, catching his arm. "I think I can help with _this_ part."

We went up to our room, and he watched curiously as I dug through the contents of the upper drawer in my bureau. I finally found it- my mother's jewelry box. I carried it to my new couch and opened it reverently, for the first time ever. As a newborn, I had been unfit to accompany Carlisle when he closed up my family's home in Chicago, and so he had taken it upon himself to gather what he thought I might like to keep. And though I considered the jewelry box to be my most prized possession, I had never had a reason to open it before.

Emmett sat down opposite me and peered inside, as well. Sitting on top of the tangled mound of necklaces, earrings and other baubles was a tiny black velvet box. I opened it and caught my breath- it was my mother's engagement ring. She had always worn it, day and night; Carlisle must have taken it off her hand after she was dead. I reached out to touch the large oval diamond, carefully running my finger over the smaller ones encircling it.

"It's great," Emmett decided. "She'll love it." Now that we were home, among our worldly possessions, he had quickly learned about Rosalie's penchant for beautiful things; large gems definitely fell into that category. He held out his hand, waiting expectantly.

I hesitated, tilting the ring box slightly so that the diamonds caught the moonlight. The room was suddenly covered with faint sparkles dancing across the walls, too pale to be noticed by human eyes. Rosalie would love this ring, all right. But I was surprised to discover that I didn't want her to have it. It wasn't that I didn't want the best for my only sister; I did. But now that I was holding this ring for the first time, now that it belonged to _me_, I was struck with the sentimental hope that _I_ might actually use it someday. That someday, possibly, there might be someone that I would want to give it to. I closed the box, laying it aside as I poked through the rest of the jewelry.

"That one's mine," I said simply, and Emmett just shrugged. I soon found another diamond ring: a one-carat solitaire with a tiny ruby on either side. It would do the job nicely. I held it out to my brother. "Careful," I cautioned. "The diamond will hold its own, but the gold is softer than it looks. And mind the prongs."

Emmett cradled the ring in his huge palm, picturing it on Rosalie's finger. _Didn't think I'd ever be holding one of these. __Well, wish me luck!_ He carefully closed his fingers around the ring, and disappeared, the front door slamming a second later.

I laid the ring box back inside with the other jewelry, and closed the lid. It really was a shame to let all those fine pieces go to waste; perhaps Esme would like one or two of the necklaces. I resolved to open the box again, nearer to Mother's Day next year. Nestling it back in its drawer, I headed downstairs to find Carlisle sitting in his chair again, deep in thought.

"You did the right thing," I assured him. "Emmett's glad you brought it up."

"Emmett's not the one I'm worried about." _I hope she's not too angry that I interfered. __I'm only trying to do what's best for her._

"I know. She'll understand." Maybe. At any rate, Rosalie was more likely to blame me than Carlisle, for interrupting their little rendezvous. I could swear up and down that I hadn't ratted them out, and she would _still_ find a way to blame me. Oh, well.

But we were both pleasantly surprised when Rosalie burst in the front door, not five minutes later. "Emmett and I are getting married!" she gasped, thrusting her hand in front of our faces to show us the ring. _I can't believe it! __This is so perfect! __I'm so glad Carlisle talked to him!_

I leaned close to inspect the ring, as though I hadn't seen it minutes ago. Seeing it on her hand hit me harder than I had expected, and I felt an sudden rush of love for my sister. I picked up her hand and pressed it to my lips, kissing her gently. "Yes, it is perfect," I agreed. "I'm happy for you both."

Her smile grew impossibly larger as she tugged on my hand, burying her face in my neck as I hugged her. _I'll bet you had something to do with this. Yo__u're the best brother a girl could ever have!_

"Congratulations, sweetheart," Carlisle said, rising to embrace her as well. She clung to his shoulder for a moment, her eyes wide.

_I can't believe this is really happening! __I thought I would never…_

"Thank you, Carlisle," she whispered. "Thank you for everything."

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**A/N: I hope you all liked this chapter, even though I decided to give Emmett and Rosalie some privacy for the proposal scene... I can't imagine Emmett saying much, anyway. Leave a review and let me know what you think, and if anyone has any ideas for the wedding :) 1935 is just about done, werewolves here we come!**


	13. Success and Failure

The next two weeks were a blur of energy and satin. Rosalie and Esme all but disappeared, dividing their time between shopping and locking themselves in Rosalie's room, huddled over bridal patterns and bolts of fabric. I was under strict orders to never divulge any of the dress, décor, or music ideas that I had "overheard".

They needn't have worried. I was more than happy to leave them to the mysteries of women's lingerie and wedding planning. But Carlisle was being mysterious, too; he had requested that the wedding take place in exactly two weeks, all the while blocking me out of his mind. Rosalie had agreed to the date, and Carlisle had immediately left the house, thinking exclusively in Chinese.

With the women occupied and Carlisle busy catching up on his reading and medical correspondence, Emmett and I had ample time to devote to reading lessons. Now that he had overcome the barrier of trusting his new brain, his appetite for learning was insatiable. I kept reining him in, insisting that he learn how to sound out new words. His patience finally ran out on the third day, and we spent the rest of the time running through the dictionary, committing each word into his steel memory. After he had gotten through that, we flew through Carlisle's 1910 edition encyclopedia, and then started on the novels on the top shelf of my bookcase.

The test came much earlier than either of us had anticipated. The wedding was just five days away, and Rosalie, Emmett and I were relaxing in the living room together, listening to music on the radio. Rosalie was curled up on the couch and Emmett was rubbing her feet. It wasn't like she needed a foot rub; but she and Esme _had_ been shopping all day, and she was remembering Vera telling her about how nice it was for a husband and wife to rub each other's feet at the end of a busy day. Emmett was more than happy to oblige.

"Mmm, that's nice," she said, closing her eyes. Emmett was just staring at her in open worship, relieved to finally have some time with her in the midst of the wedding planning. After a few minutes of this, she had another idea from her memories of Vera's life. "Would you read to me, Emmett?" she murmured, her eyes still closed.

Emmett didn't miss a beat with rubbing her feet, but he glanced over at me in terror. _I'm not ready! __Distract her, Eddie! __Do something! __Say something!_

Whether it was because he used that stupid nickname yet again, or because I was painfully bored myself, I refused to rescue him. _You can do it,_ I mouthed to him from across the room. _Just read slowly._ I leaned over and switched off the radio, nodding to him in encouragement.

"Okay," he said aloud, trying to hide his anxiety. Rosalie pulled her feet away, and he stood up, crossing the room to choose a book off the built-in shelves that were behind the piano. After a moment of struggling through some of the titles, he turned back to me helplessly.

_Lord Byron_, I mouthed to him. _B-y-r-o-n._ Rosalie would be impressed if Emmett "happened" to choose her favorite poet. He searched the shelf for the word I had spelled, finally grabbing the correct volume and returning to the couch.

Rosalie was pleased to see Emmett's selection, but she glanced to me in annoyance. _Go away. __I don't want to listen to love poems with my brother._

Emmett thinking at me, as well. _Whatever you do, don't leave. __I need you!_

Well, this was interesting. I smirked back at Rosalie, closing my own book and settling deeper into my chair. "Think I'll stay and listen, as well," I said teasingly. She just glared at me and closed her eyes again.

Emmett opened the book, carefully turning the first few pages until he found "She Walks in Beauty". He read the title easily, and then slowed down to read the lines themselves. He used the method that we had perfected over the past several days, when he had wanted to practice without anyone else hearing. He simply said the words in his mind, and I nodded or shook my head to indicate whether he had them right. When he "pronounced" one wrong, I held up so many fingers to indicate which word in the line needed correcting. It was a good thing Rosalie had her eyes shut, and it was a good thing I had decided to go with poetry. Emmett read each line separately and slowly as he waited for my confirmation each time, giving his recital a rhythmic cadence that sounded just about normal.

When he had finished the poem, Rosalie sighed happily. She was in an exceptionally good mood, thanks to the fact that her dress had been finished earlier this afternoon. "That was lovely," she said softly. "Keep going."

Emmett groaned mentally, shooting me a dirty look. I smiled back pleasantly and helped him limp through another four hundred pages of poems, sonnets, and _Don Juan_. Although the reading itself got easier as he went along, Emmett was miserable; this was probably the last book on the shelf he would have chosen to read. It was touching, in a way; he really _would_ do anything for her. I finally took pity on him.

"Esme wants you, Rosalie," I murmured. Emmett snapped the book shut, trying to hide his relief.

Rosalie looked up at the ceiling, listening. "I didn't hear anything."

I shrugged. "Something about robin's egg blue versus sky-"

"Stop right there!" she commanded, jumping off the couch and running upstairs. _I told you not to talk about it! _I chuckled to myself, watching her go. Emmett couldn't care less what color Esme wore to the wedding; he probably wouldn't even spare her a glance.

Emmett dropped the book on the floor and laid his head back against the wall in mock exhaustion. _Finally. __THANK you._

"You did well. She had no idea," I said quietly. "I think we can pronounce you officially literate, now."

_Thanks, Edward. __Really. __This was the best wedding gift ever._

I raised one eyebrow. "I suppose you don't want the other one, then."

"What… no, never mind, Rosalie wouldn't want you to spoil the surprise."

I got up. "Actually, I might as well give it to you now. It's for you, anyway, more than her. Come on."

He followed me into our room curiously. I closed the door behind us, and opened the lowest drawer in my bureau. I had left the house only once since our return, except to go hunting; I had gone to the bank and made a significant withdrawal from my personal account. I lifted the bag out and handed it to Emmett.

He unzipped it, gaping when he saw the stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills. "What…?" _Are you kidding me? __I can't take this._

"It's not for you, strictly. It's for your human family- I know you've been worried about them."

"But look at all this! There must be five thousand dollars in here!" _First the ring and… I thought you were seventeen when you died! __What were you, the world's youngest oil tycoon?_

"Ten thousand," I said casually. "And I inherited quite a bit from my human parents. My father was a successful lawyer, and since Carlisle was able to set things up so that I 'survived', I was his only heir. So, if you think about it, it's really a gift from my human family to yours."

"Wow… I don't know what to say. I mean, I'll pay you back, after I'm calm enough to get a job, and-"

"Don't bother," I interrupted. "I haven't any use for it, anyway. Carlisle has accumulated quite a sizable fortune himself, and we hardly use any money, as it is." I didn't mention the real estate, or the immense collection of original paintings that Carlisle had stashed away in various states; Emmett was overwhelmed as it was.

"Well… thanks!" _Huh._ _I didn't know Carlisle was loaded._

I smiled at my brother fondly. Rosalie's happiness notwithstanding, I really _liked_ Emmett. I was still in awe of his simple, honest thoughts, but in the last few weeks, I had also come to admire his huge heart and his uncomplicated loyalty. The discovery that he was now a part of a wealthy family made absolutely no impact on him whatsoever.

He was passing the bank bag back and forth between his hands, staring at it thoughtfully. "So… you survived, then? Your family still thinks you're alive?"

"I didn't really have any other family, besides my parents… not that I remember, anyway. Carlisle did it that way so that I could legally inherit, and keep the deed to the house in Chicago. For all the lawyers know, Edward Masen is a thirty-four year old attorney living in Sacramento."

Emmett frowned, concentrating deeply. He was picturing his cabin, his mother and his grandfather, and all the nieces and nephews. "Well… maybe I could survive, too," he said to himself.

I shrugged. "Well that's between you and Carlisle, I suppose. As long as there's… now wait a minute! You can't-"

"I know," he said quickly. "I was just thinking, somebody has to deliver the money, right? And you don't really know how to get there…"

I folded my arms. "Just forget it. It's not possible." He was forming a ridiculous plan in which he would surprise his family, hand them the money, and make up some story about how he had decided to become a sailor. He would get to see everyone again, and they wouldn't worry as much. He would be able to kiss his mother goodbye.

"You must be joking!" I scoffed when he dreamed up that last one. "She'd be dead before she even saw you."

"I think I can do it," he argued. "I passed both those blood challenges, didn't I?"

"That doesn't mean you're ready to be around _people_, Emmett! That blood wasn't fresh."

"So?"

"So the real thing is- well, you remember."

His eyes darkened slightly, remembering his accident with the hunter. "I know, but I've come a long way since then. Look at my eyes!"

Besides the fact that they had just darkened a second ago, he had a point. Even though he was less than two months old, his eyes were already a dirty shade of orange. Carlisle had been fascinated by this unusually rapid change, surmising that it must be due to the fact that Emmett had lost so much blood before being changed. It had confirmed his theory that the red eyes of newborns were due more to their own lingering blood supply, versus their diet, or the venom of the creator. Emmett's human blood was running out more quickly than normal, because there hadn't been much left to begin with.

"Regardless, you're still a newborn. It takes _months_ to desensitize to real humans. The blood challenges were just a way to have you practice controlling your instincts."

He crossed his arms, stepping closer to tower over me. "It didn't take _Rosalie_ months. If I could-"

"She was different. She just woke up with a gentler thirst than most of us. And _you_ woke up with _more_ than usual, so forget it."

"Hmph." _I just want to see them one more time. __I want to let them know that I'm all right._

"Emmett, even if you were under control, you wouldn't be able to let them see you. Remember the rules."

He grimaced. "I know."

"Well, why don't you ask Carlisle about letting you survive? If he agrees, you could write a note for me to put in with the money. You could use your sailor idea, or something like that."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But still, how are we going to get the money over there?"

"Easy. Tell me the address, and I'll take care of it. I'm also going to split the firewood while I'm there."

"Sure, it's…" He frowned. "Well, uh…" _Wow. I finally learned how to read, and now I can't remember my own address._

"Gatlinburg, Tennessee," I supplied, waiting.

He scratched the back of his head. "No, that's not right… I mean, I was near Gatlinburg, but I don't think that was my address."

Great.

"Think about it, and let me know," I sighed. I got out my atlas and tossed it to him, leaving him to study the "Tennessee" page. Of course, I could always ask around at the post office when I got to Gatlinburg, but then it might not be a good idea for a stranger to be inquiring about how to find a family who had a missing son- especially if I was going to leave the money there the same day. Humans tended to be strangely attracted and repulsed by our unearthly beauty, but they also had a way of remembering us. So much for my wood-chopping mission of mercy.

I headed downstairs, going to find Carlisle, who was just getting home from the hospital. He wasn't officially back to work, but he had agreed to take the night shift for most of the week to fill in for Dr. Lance, who had gotten a nasty flu. He really didn't have anything better to do; Esme was enjoying the wedding planning even more than Rosalie, if that were possible. Carlisle had barely seen his wife at all since the night Emmett had proposed.

He was pulling up toward the garage now, and I noticed with annoyance that he was thinking in Chinese again. I met him outside.

"It's not _my_ wedding," I complained as I followed the car into the garage. "I don't see why you're keeping secrets from _me."_

He gritted his teeth in concentration, refusing to let anything slip.

"All right, I give up," I laughed. "Anyway, Emmett and I were just talking, and he wants to know if he would be allowed to send a message to his human family." I briefly explained everything we had talked about.

"I don't see why not," Carlisle answered. "I haven't seen any articles about his disappearance. Although I don't see how you're going to find the house, if he doesn't remember where it is. And you're right, he's nowhere near old enough to go there himself. But even if he was, I still wouldn't want them seeing him."

"He had forgotten about that. And he thought that his success with the blood challenges meant more than it did."

"I should have explained that better, I suppose." _It's funny you should mention that, because I was going to do the third one this morning- look_. He nodded toward the backseat, where a small cooler was stored. My throat constricted as I realized what was in it. I watched intently as he removed the cooler and set it on the garage floor.

"Oh, good you're home!" Esme called from the kitchen. She and Rosalie had their coats on, and they fully intended to be at the florist the minute the shop opened today. They brushed past us, and Esme cheerfully pecked Carlisle on the cheek as she snatched the keys from his hand. He reached up to hold her for a longer kiss, but she was already inside the car, putting the key in the ignition.

"We won't be long!" she called as they raced backwards away from the house.

Carlisle just looked mournfully after them as they disappeared. "Which means we'll see them tonight," he sighed. "Sometimes I just don't understand women, Edward."

"Join the club," I muttered. "So, should I go open a window?"

"Hmm?" He was still thinking about Esme.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face. "I said, should I go open a window? For the you-know-what?"

"Oh! Yes, go ahead. And don't say anything." _Remember, I want this time to be unannounced. __If he does well this time, I think we can begin desensitizing._

I looked at him doubtfully. "Just because his eyes are fading, doesn't mean he's ready for _that_."

"We'll see." He picked up the cooler and headed for the woods behind our house.

I hesitated briefly, and then followed after him. "Carlisle, wait. I want to come along."

He paused, turning around to face me. "What for? I don't want to leave Emmett alone."

"He'll be fine. I want to expose myself again, and work on desensitizing further. You said I could, sometime. And I won't get too close this time, I promise."

He watched me for a moment, remembering my reaction to the blood the last time. "All right, son." _But only if you're willing to listen to me while we're doing it. __I'll not have you torturing yourself needlessly again._

"I will," I promised. "I'll get the window." I ran back into the house, sticking my head through the doorway to my bedroom. Emmett was still seated on the floor, staring angrily at the Tennessee page of my atlas. "Emmett, I'm going outside to help Carlisle with something."

"Mmm."

I left our bedroom door open as I headed back downstairs, and paused to slide open the largest window in the living room. It was sticking a bit, and I frowned as I struggled to keep it quiet.

"Bye, Emmett!" I called, raising the window as I spoke, effectively covering the _squeak_. I slipped outside, catching up with Carlisle.

We only went a mile and a half away. Carlisle was a bit uncomfortable leaving Emmett alone at the house, and this way I could easily keep tabs on him. I built the fire, as I had done before, but then stepped back as Carlisle brought out the glass bottle.

"How often does Emmett think about blood?" he asked.

"Several times an hour still," I answered, trying to keep my eyes off the contents of the bottle as he opened the lid. "I know his eyes tell a different story, but he's a newborn, through and through."

"But he's so calm, most of the time... so different than the beginning."

"I believe that's mostly due to Rosalie's presence. He's so focused on her that I sometimes feel his thirst before _he_ does."

_Well, we'll see how he does here. __If your theory is correct, Rosalie's absence will drastically impede his ability to control himself. __Hopefully he will remember to hold his breath, since he won't know it's not a real human._ Carlisle had the bottle over the fire, now. "Step back, son. Five hundred feet should be enough."

I obeyed instantly, eager to prove myself this time. As I steeled myself against the rising aroma of the blood, I also kept an ear out for Emmett, who was still staring at the atlas. I took slow, deep breaths, feeling the burn increase each time I inhaled. I could do this. It just took me by surprise, last time. I took another breath, wincing as the pain began to spread down deeper. Carlisle was watching me, his still-golden eyes taunting me as a frown spread over his face.

_He's struggling already. __I don't understand it- the smell really isn't that strong yet._ "Move back two hundred feet more," he suggested.

I backed up, more reluctantly this time. Why was this so difficult for me? Why couldn't I be like Carlisle? Was I missing something?

"I want you to keep backing away, until the burn is only in your throat," Carlisle called. I backed up again, and again, until I was halfway back to the house, and _still_ I had to fight to keep my hands away from my throat. _Still_ I had to remind myself not to attack my father, and tear the bottle out of his hands. As the aroma grew yet again, I began clenching and unclenching my hands, refusing to back up any further. I could do this.

_Blood! __Where is it?!_

"Emmett's got the scent now," I reported, my voice hoarse as my words flew out of the flaming desert that was my throat.

"How is he?"

I cocked my head, glad for the distraction. Since I had been obliged to move so far away from Carlisle, I was only two miles from the house now. It took some minor effort to hear Emmett, and my throat began to cool as I focused. "He's fighting it," I said proudly. "He's- no, wait."

_I can't, I can't! __I'm sorry, Rosalie!_ In a blink, the walls of our home disappeared from Emmett's vision, to be replaced by a blur of trees.

"He's coming, fast," I shouted back to Carlisle.

He dropped to his knees and began digging furiously, screwing the lid back onto the bottle and burying it deep within the ground. _I don't want him to taste it again._ He filled in the hole and kicked some leaves over the area, running to meet me just as Emmett drew close to my position.

_I'm sorry, I can't, I can't! _ _I have to have it!_ I could see him now, charging through the woods at full speed. His thoughts were barely civilized, and his body was fully committed to the hunt. His eyes were as black as they could be, and at the last second I jumped out of the way, along with Carlisle; there being no human to protect, there was no need to get ourselves bitten. Emmett skidded to a stop, sniffing the air desperately as the twisting breeze teased the lingering scent away from him. _What…? __Where did it go?!_ He spun around, seeing us for the first time as he came out of the frenzy. He sniffed the air again, and laughed, the relief obvious on his face.

"There's no human, is there?"

I shook my head, walking back to meet him. "No, this was the final blood challenge, and you failed miserably. _Now_ do you see why you can't go back to Gatlinburg?"

His smile faded. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it." He collapsed to sit on the ground, rubbing his throat.

Carlisle sat down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well, this one was much more difficult. You didn't have Rosalie to help you through it, and it came unexpectedly."

I wasn't feeling so forgiving. "I heard you fighting it at first. Why on earth didn't you exhale and hold your breath, if you thought it was a real human?" I demanded. I was thirsty myself now, and irritable.

Emmett shrugged, ashamed. "I don't know. I guess I was so used to everyone telling me to stop breathing, I didn't think of it on my own. Sorry," he added, glancing up at me.

"Sorry is right," I snapped. "Just be glad you didn't go off on that fool errand to your human family. Imagine how you would feel if-"

"Edward," Carlisle interrupted quietly. _That's enough. __I know you're disappointed in yourself, but don't take it out on your brother. __He did the best he could._

I forced my hands to relax, and swallowed the last of my venom. "You're right, of course. Emmett, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all that. I understand how difficult it is being so young."

"Anyway, there was no harm done," Carlisle said lightly, trying to hide his own disappointment.

"You say that now," Emmett muttered under his breath. "Wait 'til you see the hole I just made in the side of the house."

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**A/N: I originally wrote this chapter with Emmett killing another human (on their front porch, no less) but I decided to be nice to him, since it's almost his wedding day. Can anybody guess what Carlisle's surprise is?**


	14. Greetings and Farewells

Emmett had indeed crashed right through the living room wall. In retrospect, I supposed that I should have left the front door open, instead of a window.

We did our best to repair the damage, but of course Esme noticed right away, when she and Rosalie got home that night. Fortunately for Carlisle, she was too busy with Rosalie's veil to get too upset. She did, however, insist that we paint the entire house to match the not-quite-perfect color that Carlisle had gotten for the new siding. I suspected that she just wanted the men out of the house. We were actually relieved to have something to do while she and Rosalie continued with their squealing upstairs.

So the three of us were outside that night, putting on another coat of paint, when I heard the sound I had most dreaded since bringing our newborn home: the sound of a car's engine slowing down on the highway, right around the entrance to our driveway.

"Emmett," I said quickly, "hold your breath for a bit, please." Emmett dutifully exhaled and waited while I stretched out, searching for the approaching thoughts of whatever human was foolish enough to drive past our new "No Trespassing" sign.

_I haven't been to a wedding in centuries! __This is going to be so much fun._

I broke into a grin and shoved Carlisle in the shoulder. "You _have_ been holding out on me," I teased.

Carlisle just laughed and nodded to Emmett, who began breathing again. "Are you sure it's okay?" he asked nervously.

"Don't worry," our father assured him. "I don't think you'll be tempted to attack _these_ visitors." He turned toward the house.

The car raced up to the house, jerking to a stop six inches from my knees. The door opened, and the driver got out, shaking out her luxurious curls and smiling as she inhaled our scents. Her golden eyes darted straight to mine, and a bewitching smile spread over her face.

_Still as delicious as ever._

I shuffled forward, smirking back at her as the rest of the group got out.

"Hello, Tanya."

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"Welcome!" Carlisle said happily, embracing each of our "cousins" in turn. Emmett hung back, his instincts telling him to run from the sudden presence of five new vampires, but I had no such excuse. I followed Carlisle's example, shaking hands with Eleazar and giving each of the women a brief embrace. I saved Carmen for last; she was the safe one.

"Hello, everyone!" Esme called as she and Rosalie joined us.

"Esme, it's so good to see you again," Carmen said warmly as she caught my mother in her arms. "And this must be the lovely Rosalie! Oh, I love weddings!"

I watched curiously as everyone made their introductions. When had the Denalis met Esme? Carlisle had taken me to visit twice before he changed Esme, but we had never gotten that far north since. I realized with an embarrassing twist in my stomach that it must have been while I was… away.

Irina's thoughts seemed to echo my own. Her abrupt coolness was at odds with her beautiful smile, giving it a deadness that was most unattractive. As Esme pulled her close for a hug, she stared at me from over my mother's shoulder.

_Well, I see that you finally came to your senses._

My own smile faded and I nodded slightly, causing her to ignore me completely as she turned to Rosalie and began fawning over her with the rest. What did our cousins know about the years I had been away? Carlisle and Esme wouldn't have known what I was up to, if they had visited during my absence. And surely Carlisle wouldn't have gone out of his way just to tell them about my foolishness _after_ the fact. I pushed the thought out of my mind as I watched Rosalie's thoughts whirl with happiness as everyone's talk quickly turned to the upcoming wedding. She was just as surprised as I was with our visitors. Carlisle had given her the best wedding gift possible: an audience.

In a flash, all six women disappeared.

"Don't mind them," Carlisle said, laying a hand on Eleazar's shoulder. "I'm sure they've gone upstairs to discuss wedding details. It may be a few hours before we see them again."

Emmett was just standing with his mouth open, still absorbing the shock of so many beautiful women descending on him at once. I elbowed him in the side, and he shut his mouth, glancing down nervously at Eleazar, who was circling him like a lion measuring its prey.

"So, what do you think of our newborn, Eleazar?" Carlisle asked curiously.

_I think he's enormous._

"We're well aware of that," I laughed. "What Carlisle meant was, do you see anything… unique?"

"I don't believe so," Eleazar said uncertainly. "Give me some time, though."

Emmett took a wary step backwards. "Time to what?"

"Forgive me," Eleazar said, inclining his head slightly. "I have an extra gift, though not nearly so powerful as Edward's. I have the ability to see gifts… to discern if a person is talented, and what the type and magnitude of that talent is."

"Hmm… and you notice nothing?" Carlisle said, looking up at Emmett with a scientific gaze. "We had wondered whether his enormous strength might be classified as a supernatural talent."

"Hmm," Eleazar echoed. "Have you noticed the strength decreasing as he matures?"

Carlisle nodded.

"But he's still far stronger than Carlisle," I added. "At least by a factor of two and a half."

Eleazar backed up, tilting his head to the side as he surveyed Emmett again. "No… no, I see nothing. It may be so slight that I can't detect it, though."

"Thanks," Emmett growled. _Eddie, this guy is… strange._

"Don't be offended," I replied. "If you were any stronger, Esme would never have let you in the house!"

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It was the noisiest night our house had ever seen. Before too long, the women had joined us downstairs, and we eventually broke into several smaller conversations as everyone caught up with each other, or got to know the newcomers. Rosalie was literally buzzing with excitement, reveling in the attention she was receiving, and elated to finally meet her extended family. I was so wrapped up in following all the conversations and thoughts that I didn't hear what Tanya said to me.

I turned to the sound of my name. "I'm sorry?

"I said, I'd like to see the grounds surrounding your home. What do you say to a little tour?"

I regarded her skeptically. In the two times I had visited her home before, she had attempted to seduce me at least thirteen separate times. I hated to mistrust her intentions, but we didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to trust.

"Perhaps later, when your family can join us," I said carefully. I didn't see any ulterior motive in her mind, but then, she had known me for a quite a while now. Plenty of time to practice controlling her thoughts…

She pursed her lips, offended. "Just a little walk?" _It's rather stuffy in here, don't you-_

"No."

She closed her eyes, flipped her hair over her shoulder to send her scent crashing into me. I leaned back into the couch, focusing my gaze on Esme's explanation of our games out in the forest last month. I refused to let Tanya see how delectable I found her scent; it would only encourage her.

"Really, Edward?" Eleazar gasped, looking at me. "173 miles an hour?"

I grinned, my conversation with Tanya forgotten. "That's right. Of course, it wasn't on a real track, and we were just estimating the length of the road."

Eleazar leaned forward in his chair, whipping his head around to catch Carlisle's attention. "You see, Carlisle, this is what I mean. A vampire can have enhanced characteristics, without them being supernatural talents. Consider Edward's speed. There isn't a physiological reason why he should be so much faster than the rest of us. He's tall, but not unusually so, and he's not any stronger than the average male vampire. So why should he be so fast? Yet his true talent is clearly his mind-reading."

"Can't a vampire have two supernatural talents?" Esme asked.

Eleazar leaned back in his chair again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Now we're getting philosophical," he mused. "What makes a talent supernatural? What makes a singular characteristic a talent? Is my gift of discernment limited in some way? Talents can grow, but can they truly evolve from nothing, in a mature vampire? I haven't lived long enough to answer these questions, Esme. I've certainly never _met_ a vampire with two talents, and neither have the Volturi. Ask me again in a millennium or so."

An uneasy silence filled the room at the mention of the Volturi. Eleazar had once been a part of the Guard himself, no doubt one of Aro's treasures, what with his unique gift. I watched curiously as fragments of memories surfaced in his mind now, most of them set in the dark tunnels beneath Volterra. His eyes took on a hollow look as the memories began to flip faster and faster, and as they grew darker. I saw Eleazar adjusting his cloak, looking in the mirror and not exactly liking who he saw. I saw Aro, framed by a cloud of purple smoke, eagerly reaching for his hand. I saw vampire after vampire dismembered. I saw the lonely days, and the lonelier nights.

Carmen reached over and took his hand gently, sending the memories away in a mist. She waited until she had his eyes, and smiled. _This is your life now_.

He stared back at her, oblivious to the crowd around them. _You are my life now._

I smiled, watching their intimate exchange with my unique perspective. Their love reminded me of Carlisle and Esme's: warm and sweet. But unlike my parents, these two had been together for countless decades, and had developed a silent communication which seemed almost telepathic.

As quickly as he had entered it, Eleazar snapped out of his silence. "So, it will be interesting to see how Emmett's strength and Edward's speed change over the years. Perhaps Edward will be flying, one of these days."

I laughed with the rest of them, shaking my head at my cousin. Emmett was right; Eleazar _was_ an interesting person, to say the least. At times, he carried himself with a gravity that reminded me of the Volturi guards I had encountered several years ago. But usually, he had a nervous energy about him that I had never seen in another vampire. He had a way of saying things that always took me by surprise, even when I heard the words in his mind ahead of time. But more often, he spoke so quickly that his thoughts barely kept pace with his mouth. Strange, indeed.

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After we had caught up, we all decided to go "out to eat". The Denalis were eager to explore our corner of Appalachia, and Carlisle was especially excited to show Eleazar some of his favorite hunting grounds and lookout points.

I hadn't seen my father this relaxed in a long time. Ever since Rosalie had come into our lives, he had seemed to be carrying the extra burden of guilt that her change had brought about. And now that she was finally beginning to thaw in the light of Emmett's love, Carlisle was burdened with managing another newborn. It was hard to imagine him as the lonely nomad he had been for most of his existence. His life was so different now, as a busy husband and father. If anything, he deserved a vacation.

"Carlisle looks much happier now," Tanya said beside me. I frowned, glancing around and listening in vain for the rest of our family. How had she gotten me alone like this?

"Than what?" I asked, stepping deftly away as she thought about slipping her hand under my arm.

She shrugged delicately. "Than the last time I saw him." In her memory, I saw flashes of Carlisle and Esme's unannounced visit back in April of 1927; they had come to see the Denalis had had any word of me. I flinched, unable to decide which was worse: Esme's heartbroken sobs or Carlisle's utter look of defeat.

"Oh- I forgot, I'm sorry," Tanya said, quickly replacing the memory with arctic scenery. "Although I have to say, you rather deserve it."

I frowned down at her. So I _hadn't_ been imagining things when Irina's accusing thoughts had bombarded me earlier. "How did you…?"

"Esme told us that Carlisle suspected you were out murdering humans," she said easily. She might have been discussing the weather. "And although he sent us a note back in '31 to tell us that you were home, he didn't say much about what you had been up to. So, how many?"

I shifted uncomfortably, hoping she didn't mean what I thought she meant. "How many what?" I asked through my teeth.

"How many did you kill?"

"Nine hundred and thirty-seven," I hissed. The faces flew past my mind at lightning speed, and I winced again as I remembered the last thoughts of hundreds of my victims: I saw myself, on hundreds of different street corners, my red eyes glowing with condemnation and self-righteous hatred as I closed in for the kill. I remembered their blinding fear, and utter confusion at what sort of monster was ending their lives. Why was she doing this to me?

"Oh, is that all?" she said casually. "I've killed… well, let's see… tens of thousands. A hundred thousand, perhaps."

"That was different. You didn't know any better."

She quirked an indulgent smile. "Oh, and I suppose you did? You were a child, Edward. You still are, really. You're hardly responsible."

I laughed darkly. "Irina doesn't seem to agree with you."

Tanya laughed back, a sparkling, golden sound. "Yes, she's rather put out with you. And not only for your foolishness with the humans, either. She can't comprehend why anyone would dare to say no to the Volturi." _We've met them too, you know. _

I sobered quickly, remembering what little Carlisle had told me about their mother's execution, and the execution of the immortal child she had created. Tanya and her sisters had almost shared their mother's fate, spared only when Aro determined their complete ignorance of the crime in question.

"Don't mind Irina," Tanya continued. "She always liked to hold a grudge. I'm sure she'll forget all about it in a century or so." She watched my face carefully. "I didn't mean to… well, I suppose I did. I had a feeling you might be in need of a little perspective. It was four measly years, Edward. The blink of an eye. But you're still torturing yourself for it, aren't you?"

I just looked away, refusing to give her any satisfaction.

"I knew it," she said accusingly. "Carlisle might as well be your biological father, for all he's passed on his tendency to-"

"Was there anything else?" I asked tersely.

Her mind cleared and she put on a sultry smile. _Would you like there to be?_

I snorted in disgust and took off running, burying myself in the hunt. The deer's blood tasted foul in my mouth, next to the memories of human blood that Tanya had thrown in my face. But by the time I had cleaned up, I was regretting my abrupt departure. In her own way, Tanya _had_ been trying to be helpful. I was just so used to the verbal sparring that Rosalie and I had grown accustomed to, that I had treated our visitor more rudely than I had intended. I should apologize… preferably in the presence of at least one other person. That way, she wouldn't take it the wrong way.

I found her, along with everyone else, engaged in a lively debate in the middle of a moonlit clearing.

"I don't know about this," Carlisle was saying.

Emmett's voice boomed out above the rest. "But with her there, there's no _way_ it can go wrong."

"Is it really necessary for her to ride on your _back?"_ Rosalie hissed. _It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't so drop-dead gorgeous. __I've never felt so infuriatingly… average._

"What's this all about?" I asked as I entered the clearing. Eleazar was pacing back and forth, while everyone else was huddled around Emmett and Kate.

Emmett turned with a huge grin on his face. "Our problems are solved, Eddie!" he called gleefully.

I raised an eyebrow. "_Our_ problems?"

Kate stepped forward. "Emmett was telling us how he'd like to take the money you gave him, and leave it for his human family."

"I know that," I said, frowning. I hadn't intended for my gift to become public knowledge. "And I told him it was a stupid idea. As soon as he remembers his old address, I'm going to do it for him."

"Which I can't," Emmett reminded me. "But if you guys get me close enough, I'd bet I could find it."

Eleazar turned on a dime, appearing in my face. "And I said, even with three male vampires to accompany him, he's still strong enough to do plenty of damage."

Kate gave a silvery laugh. "And _I_ said, if you really want to keep him in line, take _me_ along."

"It's perfect, Eddie," Emmett said excitedly. "She's going to ride on my back, and that way, if I get out of control, she'll just zap me into next week, and you guys can get me out of there."

I shuddered, remembering the time Carlisle had foolishly asked Kate for a demonstration of her talent back in 1919. It had been something of an experiment: Carlisle was curious to see how I would perceive his pain through my gift. I had registered the painful thoughts of humans before, and experienced a minor echo of what they felt, if I was really paying attention. And we had already noticed that my thirst was sometimes worsened when Carlisle let his own thirst go too long. But at that point, I had never actually been around a vampire who was experiencing real _pain_ before. So after I had eagerly agreed to the experiment, Kate had given Carlisle a dose of her "medium" setting. His knees had buckled instantly from the pain, and I felt an uncomfortable jolt as well, though not nearly as intense as what Carlisle seemed to have felt. Carlisle had insisted that she do it again, this time with me trying to block his mind. He had fallen again, gasping at the pain; I felt nothing. Kate had offered to let me feel the real thing for comparison, but I had quickly lost my curiosity by that time. Emmett had _no_ idea what he was getting himself into.

"That's all well and good," I said slowly, "but your human family is still likely to be at home. How close are you intending to get?"

"No, see, it's Saturday night," Emmett replied. "The one day I know everyone will be out of the house is Sunday, when they go to church. I remember _that_ much."

I glanced at Carlisle, who shrugged back at me. "It's worth a try," he conceded. "Although I want Edward well ahead of us when we get within ten miles of the cabin. Now that Emmett hasn't been around to do the hunting, somebody else may be poking around in the woods, while the rest of the family is at church." _This is different from the hunter, that first day. __If he kills anyone in his human family, he's never going to forgive himself. __Still, with Kate's talent, I don't see how anything could happen._

And that was how I found myself running through the forest the next morning, with Carlisle, Eleazar, Kate, and Emmett. Carlisle carried the money, while I scouted ahead occasionally, checking for hunters. Eleazar had a pair of axes slung over his shoulder. When the woods began to thin, Kate tried to climb up onto Emmett's back, but she found that she was too small to get her knees around his huge torso. Instead, she scrambled up onto his shoulders, letting her feet dangle in front of his chest. Considering the difference in their sizes, she looked like a child perched on her father's shoulders, on their way to the County Fair. Only this "child" was nearly a thousand years old, and she had a death grip on Emmett's neck, ready to electrocute him if he misbehaved.

As we continued on, Emmett began to get his bearings. "I think I've been here before," he said uncertainly.

"I know you've been here before," I said. "Look."

I led him off to the right, and Emmett sucked in his breath as he recognized the place where the bear had attacked him. Even though Rosalie had cleaned up every ounce of evidence, Emmett's eyes darted toward one edge of the clearing, as though he was afraid that the bear might come back for him.

"Rosalie killed the bear," I assured him. "Although if you met him now…"

"I'd demand a rematch," Emmett growled, cracking his knuckles loudly. _Hmm. __I wonder if THAT'S why I like bear so much._

"I don't doubt it," I replied. We definitely needed to get Emmett out to the Rockies, so that he could see some _real_ bears.

I laughed out loud when I heard Kate's next thought echo my own: _We've got to get Emmett out to Alaska so that he can see some REAL bears._

Emmett pouted at me. "What?" _You know I hate it when you do that._

"Nothing," Kate cooed as she kicked her steed. "Now let's move!"

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.

Once we left the site of Emmett's demise behind, he quickly found his way back home. I went ahead twice, only to double back and assure the others that no humans were nearby.

Emmett's cabin sat at the foot of a sprawling pair of wooded hills, isolated from its neighbors by at least two miles. We wanted to give him some privacy as he approached his old home, so Carlisle agreed that as long as Kate accompanied him, the rest of us would wait under the edge of the forest's canopy. If there was any trouble, we would merely call to Kate, who would disable Emmett until we got him far enough away.

"Quite the growing family," Eleazar mused as we watched Emmett and Kate head down towards the cabin.

"Yes," Carlisle murmured. "I would never have believed it, twenty years ago. I had been alone for so long… I would have laughed if someone had told me that I would become a husband and father of three."

"Do you intend to add further to your coven?" Eleazar asked quietly, his voice taking on an odd pitch.

"I considered our family complete after changing Rosalie," Carlisle answered. "But she was so set on me changing Emmett, that I couldn't refuse her. Why?"

"No reason." _A coven of five, with one enormous talent, and one with superior strength. __Aro wouldn't be pleased- especially if any more were added. __And they have already another strike against them: Edward's refusal to accept the offer to join the Guard. __Not exactly the way to keep his coven in Aro's good graces._

I shot him a dirty look. "I'm standing right here, you know."

Eleazar met my eyes guiltily. _I meant no offense, young Edward. __I can only repent of my part in your… troubles._

"It wasn't your fault," I said quietly.

Carlisle glanced back and forth between us. "What is it?" he asked.

"I was merely expressing my regret for bringing your son to Aro's attention. It isn't often that he visits me, you know. It's only happened three times since my departure."

"Eleazar is concerned about the size of our coven," I told Carlisle. "He thinks Aro would be displeased."

"I don't see why," Carlisle said flatly. "Aro knows that I am a peaceable man, and I have no intention of breaking any laws."

"He should have left us in peace," I muttered.

Eleazar looked at me, confused by my hostility. "Aro has done nothing wrong, cousin. He merely extended an invitation to you, which you were free to decline." _Not that I understand your refusal, myself. __I only left to be with my mate._

I ground my teeth, remembering Jane and her fiery gaze. "I wonder how many of Aro's 'visits' to Alaska have resulted in these _invitations_, as you call them," I hissed.

Carlisle touched my hand, his eyes boring into mine in warning. _Don't speak too freely. __Eleazar is a good man, but he is no enemy to the Volturi. __And everything you say will be laid bare the next time Aro touches his hand._

"Forgive me," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. "I don't mean to speak against your _master_."

Now Eleazar looked more confused than ever. "Aro is no longer my master," he said slowly. "He is my friend."

"Of course," Carlisle said quickly, before I could say anything else stupid. _I'll explain later, Edward. __Let it go for now, PLEASE._

I clenched my teeth, swallowing the accusations that wanted to spew out of my adolescent mouth. It was a stretch to blame Aro for my idiocy back in the late twenties, but I blamed him nonetheless. How could Eleazar stand there and defend a tyrant? He almost seemed to _like_ the man.

Thankfully, Emmett chose that moment to emerge from the cabin, with Kate clutching his wrist. She had been obliged to walk beside him once they had entered the cabin; in fact, I was surprised that Emmett was able to walk around in there without bending his head down. He waved to us, and we joined him as he picked up his old axe by the woodpile.

"It's so light," he said to himself as he swung it around. Carlisle and Eleazar took the other two axes, and the three of them began splitting the firewood while Kate and I kept watch. I had my gift extended to the limit, anxiously watching the sun. How long did church last?

"Quite the bachelor party, isn't it?" Kate said, nodding over to our immortal lumberjacks.

I smirked back at her. "No girls allowed, Kate."

She made a face. "Ugh. I'm just glad to have an excuse to absent myself from the flowers-and-frills party."

I had always found Kate to be the most intriguing of my cousins. Although she partook in the same unscrupulous pastime as her sisters, she had quite a different human background from either of them. She had been a highly-trained fighter, a bodyguard for some kind of tribal queen in what later became Slovakia. Sasha had chosen her for her courage, as well as her resemblance to Tanya and Irina. After her transformation, Kate's fighting prowess had taken on new meaning when she discovered her unusual talent for electrocution. Centuries later, she had been surprised when Eleazar had come along and, after some examination, decided that her talent was actually a psychic one; there was no actual electrical current flowing out of her skin. In this, her gift was disturbingly similar to Jane's.

But unlike Jane, Kate was no sadist. It was true that she still thought of herself as warrior, and the chief defender of her coven, but she had a gentle heart. She did, however, have a spunk that her sisters lacked. I wouldn't have called her unfeminine, exactly, just… spirited. She had been the first to lose interest in Carlisle and me, deciding that we were too "tame". That suited me just fine. And now I was officially on Irina's bad side, as well. Two down, one to go.

"That's the last of it."

Emmett tossed the axe back into its place, eyeing the now-bursting woodshed with satisfaction. _Guess this is the last time I'll see this place._

I handed him the bag of money, and he opened it, taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and slipping it inside. He retied the bag and laid it reverently on the front porch, pausing as he mentally bade farewell to his human life. Then he turned on his heel and led us back into the woods, whistling and thinking about Rosalie.

I never found out what Emmett had written in the note. To my knowledge, Emmett Cullen never thought about his human family again.

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**A/N: Wow, this story has gotten so much longer than I anticipated! The next chapter will be the last one, and it will feature a couple of important conversations, as well as Rosalie and Emmett's wedding. After that, it's on to 1936, when the Cullens move to Washington State and encounter the werewolves. **

**Also, you might have noticed Edward's growing preoccupation with his control over his thirst. There's nothing "wrong" with him, other than expecting too much of himself. He hasn't done anything really stupid in a while, and I'm thinking about him taking matters into his own hands with regards to the blood thing, in a future story (maybe 1950?) One possibility is him refusing to hunt for extended times- his reasoning being that maybe Carlisle's super-control is due to his months of starving himself as a newborn. I promise I won't let Edward kill anyone (I love canon, you know). But if anyone has any other ideas about that please let me know. Basically I just think it's time for him to do something stupid again, and I thought maybe something about blood would be good. But I'm open to other ideas as well.**


	15. You Can't Pick Your Family

**A/N: Surprise, an extra chapter before the wedding! This is dedicated to zveka and Casey-Pup, whose super-encouraging reviews and messages have given me an extra muse attack. This is what you get for being so awesome!**

When we got back to the house, the women were bursting with excitement. During our absence, apparently, Rosalie had been entertaining the others with the tale about how uncomfortable I had been in the past two weeks every time she or Emmett thought about their upcoming "honeymoon". After a few rounds of laughter at my expense, Irina had scathingly suggested that if I didn't like it, I should move out.

What she had intended as an insult turned out to be a brilliant idea. But not for me: for _them_. By the time Tanya had finished telling me this part, Esme had cleared off the dining room table and was laying out her preliminary blueprints for Rosalie and Emmett's new cottage, which would be built nearly a mile behind our house in a particularly dense part of the forest. We all crowded around the table, Esme erasing and sketching furiously as the ten of us put in our ideas. Carlisle and Eleazar were excited about the challenge of finishing the entire project in time for the wedding, which had been scheduled for Thursday night. It didn't really matter what day it was, now that Carlisle's "surprise" had arrived; all that mattered was that it was at night, and not on a weekend. I had tried, per Rosalie's request, to ignore the wedding details, but I did know that Rosalie wanted to get married in the clearing where Emmett had woken up. In order for that to be safe, it made sense to do it at a time when humans were the least likely to be about. Rosalie refused to change the date, saying that she and Esme had already embroidered the date on several things. The challenge was on.

After a few hours of brainstorming, we had all caught the "new house" bug. It was maddening to wait until the next morning, when the hardware store would open. Eleazar pointed out that we could just break in, get what we needed, and leave some money behind, but Carlisle insisted that we do things "the human way". In any case, we would need to rent a truck in order to bring home the lumber, as well as driving two cars to bring home all the smaller supplies.

"Besides," he added. "We're supposed to be doing construction on our property, anyway. It would be good to have the townspeople see us at the hardware store getting materials."

"What does construction have to do with your cover story?" Irina asked.

"It's a recent addition," Carlisle explained. "Emmett woke up with an enormous thirst, and we kept him out in the woods for a few weeks. But even then, we were a bit nervous to bring him home, what with our proximity to our neighbors. And our mailman was a concern, too. So we took down the mailbox, and put up a "No Trespassing" sign. Our excuse to the Post Office was that we were doing some work on the property."

"So that's why your house was so hard to find," Tanya laughed. "I must have driven by your driveway three times!"

"I'm surprised I didn't hear your thoughts earlier than I did," I said.

"That was on purpose," Carmen answered. "Carlisle had written that he wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, including you. So when we got near your address, we all focused on the song we were listening to on the radio."

"That was a creative way to block him out," Carlisle mused. "I'll have to try that sometime."

"You should," I teased. "Because after the wedding is over, I have every intention of learning Chinese!"

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We set out ten minutes before the hardware store was due to open. Emmett was pouting that he couldn't come with us, saying that he should be allowed to pick out the lumber for his own house.

"I'm the only one here who's ever actually _built_ anything," he grumbled, following us out to the driveway, where the Denalis' car was parked just outside the garage.

I rolled my eyes. "It would look a little odd to walk into the store with Kate on your shoulders, don't you think?"

"Hmmph." He strolled over to our visitor's car, carefully opening the passenger door to peek inside. It reminded me of our plan to get Rosalie a car of her own, just a few hours before she had found Emmett. We had gotten sidetracked with first Emmett, and now the wedding; maybe we could turn our idea into a wedding gift somehow.

Carlisle called out the warning just a second too late. "Emmett! Don't slam the-"

Emmett slammed the passenger door, and there was a groaning sound as the metal gave way to the force, the door imbedding itself in the frame two inches deeper than it was meant to. A tenth of a second later, the passenger window shattered, spraying glass all over the driveway. "Sorry," he muttered, leaning down to look sheepishly at Eleazar.

Eleazar just laughed and revved the engine, shooting backwards out onto the highway. Carlisle was driving us in the Eagle, and he followed at a slower pace than usual, letting Eleazar get farther and farther ahead.

"Engine trouble?" I asked, tilting my ear to listen. I didn't hear anything wrong.

"No, I want to talk to you, preferably without Eleazar listening in."

I turned to face him. "Yes, I've been wondering about that. Does Eleazar seem different to you? He was quite odd when he was speaking about Aro."

"Yes, and it's not the first time I've noticed that particular change," Carlisle said sadly. "When I first met the Denalis, Eleazar and Carmen were relatively new to the area. They were still getting used to the vegetarian diet. But it was obvious that Eleazar was happy with his new life, and with his mate. When he found out that I had spent time among the Volturi, we naturally shared our experiences with each other. It turned out that he had joined the Guard only two years after my time there. And his tenure was unusually brief; he was with them for less than a century."

"And then he met Carmen, who convinced him to leave with her," I finished. I had always found the story romantic. The reluctant soldier, finally winning his freedom and escaping with his eternal love. And it had a happy ending: it was only ninety years later that the couple had stumbled upon the Denali coven. Both Carmen and Eleazar were gentle, compassionate people, and they had been immensely relieved to learn that it was possible to sustain themselves without killing humans.

"Yes. At any rate, it was clear from our conversation that Eleazar had been relieved when Aro had allowed him to leave Volterra. He was honored to have a prestigious role in the Guard, but he had always disliked the violence that his job required, and I also got the impression that he had never entirely trusted Aro. When we had this conversation, it had been a little over a hundred years since Eleazar had last seen his former master."

"That's the same impression I got, the last time we were up in Alaska," I said thoughtfully. "But now he seems to admire Aro, and if I didn't know better, I'd think my comments against Aro yesterday personally offended him. From his thoughts, he seems to _love_ Aro."

"He does love him, right now. And it's remarkably similar to the way I found him the second time I visited Alaska, back in the 1850s. He actually _rebuked_ me for criticizing his former master- when I know he himself had used a similar phrase back in our first meeting. The change was so remarkable that I asked Carmen about it, when we were alone. She was so relieved that somebody besides herself had noticed. She said Aro had visited the year before, and that Eleazar had been different ever since then. He became more restless than usual, and less content with their life in Alaska. I asked her if she had approached him about it. She had, and he had actually _yelled_ at her. She was practically in tears when she told me about it. Well, not tears, but you know what I mean."

"Eleazar _yelled_ at Carmen?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't even imagine it. For all his energy, Eleazar was a very gentle person, much like Carlisle himself.

"Yes. And she recalled one other time, when Aro- and Demetri, of course- had met up with them while they were still nomads. Eleazar had been different after that, as well- never quite saying he wanted to go back to Italy, but restless again, and speaking of his time with Aro more fondly. And now, Aro has visited him again, a mere nine years ago, and we see the same change in his attitude again. I can hardly believe it's a coincidence."

"But that doesn't make sense," I argued. "If anything, being in the presence of his former master would have brought back the unpleasant memories. And the other night, when he mentioned the Volturi, I saw him remembering his time there- and that didn't seem pleasant, either. If he's seen Aro recently, shouldn't he be _less_ fond of him than usual?"

"That's exactly my point, Edward. There's something supernatural going on, I'm sure of it. Carmen told me that Aro wasn't alone when he visited back in the 1850s."

"Jane?" I shuddered at the memory.

"No, I don't believe so. Oh, I'm sure his personal shield and one or two fighters were there. But Carmen also noticed another female: a very short woman with light brown hair, named Cornelia. Carmen noticed her especially because she was the only one whose cloak was black, like Aro's. She had also noticed her because she was looking at Eleazar the whole time. In fact, it sounded like that's _all_ she did. And, coincidentally, this same woman was there where Aro and Demetri had found them the first time."

"And you think this woman was… influencing him?"

"Possibly. When I was in Volterra, there was a woman who matched her description- right down to the black cloak- but her name was Cynthia. She didn't ever seem to be doing anything, just like Carmen had said. But it was clear that she was Aro's favorite, although I couldn't imagine why at the time. It's my theory that she has some sort of gift that can create feelings of loyalty… or break them," he added significantly. "During one of our earliest conversations, Eleazar hinted at such a person."

"Well, why didn't you ask him about it after you talked to Carmen?"

"Because I _had_ talked to Carmen. I thought that it would be fruitless, and possibly dangerous, to say anything that might be considered… seditious. If I'm right, and Eleazar has been under the woman's influence again… well, you can see why I want you to watch what you say. But like I said, Eleazar is a good man. And I can't think that he would willingly betray anything we say or do to Aro."

"He doesn't need to be willing," I said drily.

"True. Aro will hear every word we've ever said to Eleazar, the next time. But it's more than that, Edward. If Eleazar has been influenced, as I said, then anything negative you say about Aro, or the Volturi, will trigger thoughts in his mind that will cast us in a less than favorable light. Thoughts which Aro will be more than interested to hear. If it's anything like before, it may be several years before our cousin returns to normal again. He doesn't seem nearly as bad as before, which only proves my theory that whatever this influence is, it fades over time."

"But I don't understand. If Aro wanted Eleazar's loyalty, why doesn't he just order him back to Volterra? Or why didn't he have the woman take away his will altogether?"

Carlisle shot me a frustrated look. "Son, I'm going say this as gently as I can. You are seventeen, and no matter how many centuries you get under your belt, you are still going to be seventeen. You tend to see things in black and white, when there are many shades of gray in the world. Aro isn't _evil_."

I frowned. "But I thought you hated him, too."

"You see? Even in interpreting my attitude towards Aro, you're still organizing things into absolutes. I don't _hate_ Aro. I _fear_ him, certainly; we all do. And I disapprove of him, in many ways, yes. But I did enjoy my time in Volterra, for the most part, and I found Aro himself to be a fascinating companion, if not a comfortable one. Aro isn't all bad. As questionable as his motives are, he, and all the Volturi, perform a vitally important role in our world. Even Tanya and her sisters, who suffered at his hand, have a sort of respect for him."

"I always thought it was fear."

"That, too. But when they found out about their mother's crime, they were shocked. Most vampires agree that the Volturi's laws make sense. And look at the Southern Wars, Edward. If it weren't for the Volturi-"

"I get your point," I said darkly. "Necessary evil."

He smiled and nudged my elbow. "There's that word again."

I sighed, slouching down in my seat. "The eternal teenager," I said ruefully, closing my eyes.

"I'm not angry with you, son. All I'm saying is you need to watch what you say around Eleazar. Anyway, my point was, that Aro doesn't work like that. He was the one who let Eleazar leave the Guard in the first place."

"So that he could have him scout around the world for talent," I said scornfully. "And visit him occasionally, to see if he'd met anyone worth recruiting." Like he did with me.

Carlisle nodded. "That's my theory, as well. But we're going to keep _that_ to ourselves."

I thought about it a bit more. "But Eleazar always stays in Alaska, these days. If Aro really wanted-"

He laughed. "We can talk ourselves in circles, and we're never going to figure Aro out. If anything, I left Volterra more confused about him than when I arrived. I'm just grateful that _I_ never had a talent which might have caused him to detain me." _You don't know how worried I was that you had gone to them. __I was less concerned about your diet than I was about your destination._

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I had never heard this before. "I promised that I wouldn't, remember?"

Carlisle stared straight ahead, unwilling to say the words out loud. _I know you promised that you wouldn't go to Italy. __But you were so confused back then, Edward. __How could I have known whether I could trust anything you said that day?_

I looked out the window, shamefully avoiding his gaze as much as he was avoiding mine. He was right, of course.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That didn't come out quite like I wanted it to." _You know I'm not very good at talking about… things like this._

I grimaced. "_Tanya_ didn't seem to mind talking about it."

Carlisle sighed in exasperation. "What has she done now?" _I swear…_

"Not much. She just asked me how many humans I killed, showed me her memories of how miserable you and Esme were back in 1927, that sort of thing. Oh, and she tried to seduce me again."

Carlisle gripped the steering wheel so hard that it started to bend. "I'll talk to her," he sighed.

"No, it's all right. I think she was trying to help, in her way. She was trying to give me some 'perspective' as she calls it. Comparing my tally to her own."

"Hmm. Perhaps she really _was_ trying to help. She likes you, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Believe me, I know."

"No, I mean she's fond of you. I know she has her fun with you, too. But she also feels somewhat protective of you. She doesn't just see you as prey, Edward. She also sees you as a sort of… nephew, I suppose."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"A _adopted _nephew," he corrected, grinning back. "Fair game."

"Well, I was rather rude to her at the end. I should probably apologize."

Carlisle smiled. _Ever the gentleman._

I snorted. "It's your fault, you know. If you hadn't gotten married, she'd still be spending half her time chasing _you_."

"That's true," he laughed. Then his smile faded. "I want you to know that we didn't intend to tell them so much about your… absence. We had simply gone up to Denali to see if perhaps you had gone to stay with them, or at least stopped in. By that time, I had already read your journal from 1926 and I had a feeling that I knew what you had chosen to do. I didn't _know_ that you were hunting humans. In fact, Esme never believed it until you told her. I think she was just complaining about her husband's ridiculous theory when she talked to them about it."

"I know. She never wanted to believe me capable of being a serial killer."

Carlisle frowned. "Is _that_ how you think of yourself?"

"It's a fact."

He jerked the car suddenly, coming to a stop on the side of the road. He turned in his seat, his face tormented, and the car suddenly felt very cramped.

"Edward, you _know_ that you have my forgiveness- you had it before you even came home. Why can't you forgive yourself?" _Why can't you see yourself the way I do? __Why do you insist on doing this?_

"I don't require forgiveness, from anyone but you and Esme," I said stiffly. "It would be pointless, anyway."

"Meaning?"

I looked awkwardly away. "Eleazar's waiting for us. We should go."

"I asked you a question, Edward." He thought about laying his hand on my shoulder, but then thought better of it. He knew I was able to see myself through his eyes: a sullen teenage boy, looking everywhere except his father's eyes, wishing he were anywhere else in the world but inside this car.

Pathetic.

"I think you know what I mean," I snapped.

_No, I don't. __I'm not a mind reader, son. __You have to talk to me out loud._

I finally dragged my eyes back to his, wincing at the pity that I saw there. "You know how I feel," I murmured. "You know what I believe about our souls."

"Ah." _This again._

"We're not human, Carlisle. We are undead, monstrous approximations of the human form, designed for one thing and one thing alone: the murder and consumption of the species from which we came."

Carlisle regarded me patiently. "Designed?"

"Don't change the subject," I scowled. "My point is that whatever plan God has for _His_ creation doesn't apply to us."

_And why not?_

"Because we're not supposed to _be_ here. Not me, not you, and _certainly_ not Aro. We're supposed to be dead, every one of us. Our bodies are supposed to be rotting in the ground, and our souls are supposed to be at their final destination, whatever that may be. But instead, our bodies linger on after death, devoid of breath and blood, eternally thirsty for what we have naturally lost. Our primary drive is to steal the lives of others to feed our own living death."

"But you and I choose not to do that."

"All right," I growled. "Let's just say, for argument's sake, that you and I have redeemed ourselves with our _noble_ choice."

Carlisle frowned back at me. "Yes, let's."

"Never mind the fact that I completely turned my back on said noble choice and slaughtered humans for a significant portion of my existence."

He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You were saying something about redemption, Edward."

"Yes. All right, so we've been redeemed, then. So what? We're immortal, Carlisle. Humans carry their immortal souls inside their soft, breakable bodies. When those bodies die, their souls are freed to go wherever they are bound. In case you haven't noticed, Carlisle, we're already _dead_. Where's my soul now? Is it trapped here, inside this stone statue of a man? Has it already made its escape? You know what _I_ think about that."

"I know. You think that your soul has already been destroyed when the body was forced back into artificial existence. You think that by forcing the body to endure the flames of hell, the soul itself is burned away as the body is reforged into a state of living death."

Hmm. He _had_ been paying attention, all those times. "Yes."

"So, according to your theory, I was the one who destroyed your soul, and destroyed your chance of ever finding eternal happiness."

"I-"

"Well?"

I hated it when he did this. He knew that I could never accuse him of such a monstrous act. He was just too _good_; I would never be able to think the accusation, much less say it out loud. He had merely been the instrument of damnation; his good intentions had destroyed my soul, not he himself.

"You're missing the point," I said lamely. "My point is that our bodies are _already_ eternal. This is all we get, and it's meant to last forever because it's the best we can do. Any happiness that we can find is all the comfort that we're going to receive. Grace, absolution, forgiveness- they're not for us, Carlisle." I was reaching now. I didn't approve of hedonism any more than I approved of murder.

"You know you don't really believe that."

"Yes, I do," I lied.

"Then why did you come back?"

I opened my mouth, and shut it again. "You read my journals. I stopped killing humans because I didn't want to be a murderer anymore."

"Why not? If our existence is as empty and pointless as you said, why not indulge yourself? You said yourself that our craving for human blood is our primary drive."

I rolled my eyes. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work."

"You stopped because you felt guilty. In fact, you felt _so_ guilty, that it was beginning to drive you insane, was it not?"

"You're just proving my point. I stopped out of necessity, not altruism."

"And _my_ point is that you wouldn't be capable of feeling so guilty if you didn't have some sort of internal conscience, soul, spirit. Some part of you that wants to do the right thing. In fact, I've never met _anyone_ so bent on doing the right thing. I've never known anyone so _good_ as you. Why do you think I changed you in the first place? I watched countless others die, letting them go even though I wanted to create a companion. But when I saw you…"

He stared into space, his mind going back to 1918. "I can't explain why I was so drawn to you, why I knew that it was time. But something made me stay, after my shift was over that day- the day you were admitted into the hospital. Your mother's pleas only confirmed what I had already suspected. That if there was ever a young man who deserved to live, who deserved another chance, it was you."

He closed his eyes, willing me to believe his words. "Would I have changed you if your mother hadn't begged me to save you, in any way that I could? I think I would have. It was obvious that you were the… sort of person that I wanted."

I shook my head. "You didn't even know me, Carlisle. You had never even met me before my mother and I were admitted into the hospital."

"No, but I got to know you in the hours that you were there. You were both delirious with fever, when you were awake. I listened to both of your ramblings for hours on end. You'd be surprised what people say, in their last hours- what comes out. I learned a lot about you- both from your own mouth and from your mother's. And when she finally brought herself out of it enough to speak to me, I had already learned what I needed to know."

His mind brought us back into the hospital room. Through Carlisle's memory, I could smell the disinfectant, and the stench of my own illness. From our point of view, we stood in the shadows, watching as a sweaty, exhausted teenage boy mumbled a stream of nonsense, coughing more than he spoke. He spoke to his dead father, telling him how much he missed him. He begged God to spare his mother, and the next minute he was weeping, crying about how he was so hot. We walked forward, laying our cold hands on the boy's forehead and chest.

The boy opened his eyes, weakly searching the room for whoever was cooling him, but they drifted shut again as he coughed. He babbled childhood prayers, gasping for breath as he raced through the words. He called across the room to his mother, warning her to stay away, that she might get sick. He fell in and out of a restless sleep, waking to coughing fits as his failing lungs struggled to pull in enough air. When he finally lost the ability to speak, he lay still with his chest heaving, humming snatches of some unknown song when he had the breath. It seemed to us that it might be a lullaby, and his fingers twitched uselessly toward his mother as he hummed. All the while, the mother lay dying in the other bed, whispering about how her son was such a good boy, the best that ever was, and then gathering the strength to roll over and watch that son die. Our eyes darted back and forth between the two, and we finally walked over to the mother, who had been reaching her hand out to us. Between fits of coughing and unconsciousness, she made her plea.

Carlisle stopped the memory abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to show you that last part."

"You've never shown me any of this," I murmured. He had told me, soon after I had awoken, about what my mother had said to him, but he had been careful to never let me see the actual memories. "Why not?"

_Isn't it painful, to see yourself like that? __To see your mother like that?_

I shrugged. The images of my human mother were pitiful, but hardly bore any resemblance to the healthy, smiling woman I vaguely remembered. This woman was a small, shivering bundle under hospital blankets; in most of my memories, Elizabeth Masen had been even taller than me, since they were mostly childhood memories. And as for the dying boy in Carlisle's memory- he was just a character in a tragic story, babbling more nonsense than sense. This was the inspiration behind Carlisle's choice?

"I'm only showing you now, because I wanted you to see yourself the way _I_ saw you, the day that I chose you. I saw a young man who was selfless right up until the end, who loved his family dearly. A young man who used his dying breaths to give comfort to his mother. I saw a young man that remained pure and good even when he knew his life was already over. A young man who, I might add, seemed to have some faith in God and in the human heart."

"That was another life."

"No, it _wasn't_," Carlisle said wearily. "That was you- it's still you. If anything, those traits have grown since your change. I can't explain to you, not even with my thoughts, the joy that you have brought to me, to Esme- all of us, Edward. And yet you insist on seeing yourself as some sort of criminal, a dead man with a monster locked inside of him!" _Am I a monster as well?_

I just shook my head. There he went again, daring me to accuse him. "I know what I've done."

"You can't use that excuse forever," Carlisle said firmly. "You're seventeen. You make mistakes. You made a choice- one for which there is plenty of blame to go around- and four years later, you repented of that choice and turned aside. God only knows how hard it was for you to _stop _hunting humans. Your strength of will is a topic we can discuss _another_ day."

"As I said before-"

"Let me finish. We all make mistakes- just ask Rosalie if _I've_ ever made any. But as I said, you have the extra burden of being seventeen. I'm sure you'll make _more_ mistakes, over the centuries- as will I. We'll deal with them when we must. But meanwhile, you have a life to live. You have a family who loves you. You have your music, and your learning. And someday, you'll find someone to share that life with. Why waste that life by refusing to let yourself be happy? Why waste it dwelling on existential questions whose answers don't even matter?"

"Don't _matter_?" I hissed. "You're the one who was raised to be a preacher! You're the one who dedicated his existence to absolving himself of his species by becoming a doctor! You're the one who keeps trying to convince me of my own redemption!"

"I didn't say they didn't matter to _me_," he said calmly. "But you keep returning to the point that we are immortal, or eternally dead, as you might put it. If this existence isn't going to end anyway, then why do you even care about your soul? Why do you devote so much energy to hating that part of yourself that will supposedly never be accounted for? And if you are right about your soul, which you're _not_, then in the unlikely event that you were to die, it _still_ wouldn't matter, because there would be no soul to mourn. But you _are_ wrong, son. One only has to look at the difficult choice that you and I have made- and our whole family, and the Denalis- to see that there is something within us that yearns to live responsibly, and to rise above our species. Now, whether you call that a soul or not is your business. I do. But for heaven's sake, Edward, you need to either condemn all of us, or none of us. Stop hating yourself and forgiving _me_."

He punctuated his final argument with a roar of the engine, and pulled back onto the road. The discussion was clearly over.

I kept my thoughts to myself. I couldn't deny that nearly everything he had said had the ring of truth. There were those of us- myself included- who did try our best. Now, whether that was enough… I shook my head. Now I really _was_ thinking like Carlisle, going on about absolution. I envied him, in a way, having that hope.

But mostly, I pitied him. I was sorry that he hadn't gotten what he thought he was getting that day in the hospital. I was sorry that he had spent four years wondering what on earth he had created, and where he had gone wrong. I was sorry that I couldn't accept his beliefs as easily as he gave them. I was sorry that I could never follow in his footsteps as a physician because I wasn't capable of controlling my thirst the way he did. I was sorry that even now, when he threw all my "goodness" right in my face, I was _still_ disappointing him.

I was sorry that after years of searching, he had finally reached out and made himself a son, only to discover that he had begotten _me_.

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**A/N: Just a note, it says in the Guide that Chelsea has often changed her name to fit in with the times, so that's why I did that. It's my theory that Aro also has her change her name occasionally to deflect any rumors about her gift- the full truth about which he would probably like to keep hidden. Also, I find Eleazar's story super fascinating- especially his very unique departure from the Volturi Guard. It explains the situation in the Guide, but I have a feeling that Aro was being opportunistic, and not just merciful, by "letting" Eleazar go- he is Aro, after all. I am seriously thinking about writing a one-shot from Aro's POV about the day he released Eleazar. But in the meantime, there is a really great (brief) story about it from Eleazar's POV: "The First Time We Met" by Devil's Only Child. **

**As per Edward's latest rant against himself, don't lose hope. For one thing, he's just cranky because Rosalie and Emmett are entering their wedded bliss, and he has nobody, and he's also cranky about the blood thing. Sadly, this actually is how he views himself at this point in the Series, though he doesn't often let it show so openly. He isn't quite this down on himself by the time Midnight Sun rolls around, so I promise I'll bring him out of it somewhat... eventually. We may need Jasper to hit the scene in order for that to happen- for Edward to finally understand how much Carlisle truly loves him. Anyway, like I said, there was an extra muse attack, and we FF authors are always referring to Carlisle's and Edward's "soul" conversations, so I thought it might be fun to peek in on one.**


	16. Wedding

**A/N: At last, the final chapter! The sweet Edward-Carlisle scene right before the wedding is dedicated to Just4Me :) **

**Just a warning, Edward does continue his angstiness for a bit in the beginning here, but never fear; it's followed by a really fun fight scene and lots of wedding details. Enjoy!**

The rest of the drive was spent in a heavy silence. Carlisle had instantly regretted his harshness, and was trying to find the right way to tell me that he had only wanted to give me some peace; he hadn't intended for our conversation to deteriorate into a useless debate.

I hadn't intended for it to happen, either. Ever since my return in 1931, we had both been careful to avoid the subject of our souls. We had debated the matter several times before my departure- but it had been different back then. It had been a subject for study, a topic for scholarly discussion between father and son- two men who were making the right choice, who referred to evil in the third person. We had discussed the moral and spiritual implications of vampirism as casually as we might have discussed the latest news from Washington.

But now, it was different. Since our last debate, I had _become_ all those things that we had, before, only argued about. If Carlisle was right, and I had still had a chance back then, I had surely destroyed it now. If he was right, and I _had_ been carrying my soul inside, rattling around with the monster in there, then that monster had surely devoured it by now. I had set him free myself, after all. This debate, which had been interesting before, was deadly now. Before, I had enjoyed myself as I prepared my arguments. Now, I was defending myself. Not against Carlisle, but against his hope for our kind. Now, I was desperately in need of soullessness.

It was the only way that I could live with myself- the only way that I could bear the darkness inside me. Having to believe that Carlisle himself- or rather, his merciful, fateful choice- had placed it there was bad enough. But to think that I had destroyed my _own_ soul, with my own teeth… no, it was _imperative_ now that Carlisle be wrong.

He, of course, didn't see it that way. He saw my little rebellion as just that- a foolish mistake made by a young man, repented for and forgiven. Tanya saw it that way, too, though I doubted she cared anything about redemption.

Carlisle would have me accept my failure, and move onward. Just a bump in the road, a detour from the straight and narrow path. Lesson learned, hope restored.

But it wasn't that simple. It wasn't just the _murders_. I could possibly forgive myself for that, if I felt so inclined. All the excuses I had given myself back then were still true. I had only been seeking my natural food source. I had only killed those who deserved death. I had never tortured anyone. I had never killed more often than was necessary for my own sustenance.

Well… perhaps not that last one.

The point was, my actions were forgivable. Redeemable? Possibly. A catastrophic mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

No, my true crime was what I had done to Carlisle himself. I felt badly enough for what I had put Esme through- what man wants to be the one to break his mother's heart? But Carlisle was my creator, my father. At one time, he was all that I had, and I was all that _he_ had. Even now, with our growing family, the bond between the two of us was unique. I was his firstborn, the companion that he had thought about making for over a century before finally doing it. He had, after years of deliberation and searching, finally seen a young man that he felt was worthy to be called his son: someone who would accept his teachings, who would follow his example, who he could proudly present to the world as his own. Someone whom he could raise to be like himself. Someone who would be worthy of his selfless, gentle, generous love.

And what had I done with that love? I had refused to accept his beliefs. I had _utterly_ failed to live up to his example in regards to my thirst. I had latched onto the words of a man who hinted that I should question my father's guidance- a man whom I didn't even admire- and I had never looked back. I had let my bitterness fester, silently embracing the growing darkness in my heart while I outwardly continued to go through the motions of a dutiful son. I began experimenting with the scent of human blood, running headlong into an addiction which soon forced me away from my family. In my rush to escape their pity, I had given my parents no explanation at all in my backward attempt to avoid hurting them. I had never once contacted them while I was away, leaving them to worry and guess over my fate.

What Tanya had shown me the other day had been eye-opening. At least I had seen Esme's stricken face before, in Carlisle's memories. He tried to hide those memories from me, but it was hard to always avoid thinking about something that went on for four years. But I had never, until now, seen Carlisle's pain. Esme couldn't bear the thought of me leaving again, and so she refused to think about it at all. Not once had she slipped, letting me see what my father's face had looked like while I was away.

Tanya hadn't been so careful. It had seemed that she really was trying to make me feel better, by giving me the perspective on the relatively short time I had spent killing humans. But she had unintentionally shown me the moment that she had informed Carlisle that she hadn't seen me after all, and I was forced to watch as his hopeful worry had crumbled into a mask of disappointment and defeat. That was the moment, no doubt, that he realized that his worst fears had come true- that his "son" had completely turned away from the path he had set him on.

I glanced over at him now, as we pulled into the parking lot at the hardware store. His face gave nothing away. He would see Eleazar in a few moments and I knew I could trust him to keep our conversation to himself- from everyone except Esme, at least. His thoughts weren't so composed.

_I just don't understand it. __Why would she bring it up at all? __Doesn't she know by now how sensitive he is? __Did she really think that was going to help? __And how can I help him understand? __Why can't I get through to him? __Why is he still drowning in guilt over this? __I thought he was happy now. __Where have I gone wrong? __What should I say?_

"I _am_ happy," I murmured. "I was just getting into the debate, is all."

Carlisle just gave me a discerning look- the kind he gave his patients when he knew they were downplaying their symptoms. _If you're so happy, then why is my passenger door torn to shreds?_

I peeked down at my right hand, which had apparently been gripping the ledge under the window so hard that my fingers and wrist were now embedded in the metal. I cursed under my breath, gently extracting my hand. I smoothed over the mangled remains of the door ledge, rubbing and bending the material until the damage no longer carried a distinct handprint.

"Sorry about that," I muttered.

Carlisle had already driven past the store and parked beside Eleazar's car out by the lumber yard. We got out to see our cousin helping the workers load the last of the wood onto the flatbed truck that he had rented. His car was already chock full of boxed nails, shingles, tools and other supplies, and another pile was waiting to be loaded into the Eagle.

"I'd ask if you got lost," he said as he sauntered up to us, "but you're the one who gave me directions."

"Car trouble," Carlisle said pleasantly. Eleazar and I began loading up the car, and Carlisle went inside to pay. As soon as the last employee had disappeared around the corner, we quickly finished the loading at normal speed. As I slammed the trunk shut, Eleazar pulled open the hood.

"What's the problem? I didn't hear anything unusual when you drove up."

"Carlisle was just being polite," I sighed. "We got into a… discussion." I opened the passenger door, trying again to smooth out the metal. Rosalie was going to be _furious_.

Eleazar raised his eyebrows as his gaze followed my hand. _I won't pry. __But if I may offer some advice?_

"Of course."

"Leave the past in the past."

Tossing me the keys to the truck, he got into his own car, shooting me a glance long enough for me to see the haunted look that accompanied another flash of ancient memories. Eleazar had his own human victims to remember, as well as the vampire executions he had taken part in; no amount of loyalty, artificial or otherwise, could erase the pain that those memories obviously brought him. He closed his eyes, forcing away the images and replacing them with Carmen's face as he started the engine.

I clenched my teeth in jealousy as I started my own engine. I didn't _have_ a Carmen to distract myself with.

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By the time I pulled into our driveway, I had pulled myself together. I was immensely grateful that Carlisle had to drive the truck home, so that I could have a few moments to myself. I had easily outpaced the truck, giving myself some space from my father's thoughts.

This was no time to wallow in introspection, or regret. Our family was gathered this week to celebrate a happy occasion, and the last thing I wanted was to cast a shadow over the wedding. And the last thing I _needed_ was a gaggle of female relatives fussing over my moodiness. I forced my face into a carefree arrangement as I got out of the car. I loved my sister deeply, and the relief of seeing her so happy was more than enough to get my focus off of myself. And then there was Emmett.

"Hey Eddie!"

Speak of the devil.

Emmett carefully opened the trunk and began unloading. "What took you so… whoa, what's the matter with _you_?"

"Nothing."

_Yeah, right. __You look like you haven't hunted in a month. __What's the matter?_

I frowned back at him. "I said I'm fine."

"Wanna fight?" He jabbed me in shoulder, grinning and showing his teeth in challenge. _Come on, you look like you need a little fun. _Eleazar was driving up now, watching our exchange curiously. I backed away from Emmett, shaking my head and turning back toward the car to continue unloading.

He grabbed my shoulders from behind, tossing me across the yard. As I landed, I spun back up into standing, clenching my teeth against the thrill of the challenge. "I said _no_, Emmett," I growled. "Come on, let's get to work."

But he was already having too much fun. He charged, roaring in challenge as he swung his huge fist toward me. I sighed impatiently and sidestepped, grabbing his arm as it flew by my face. I used his own momentum to sling him off to the side, sending him straight into Eleazar with a thunderous _crack_. Our wrestling matches hadn't been as fun lately, now that Emmett wasn't a _new_ newborn; he had been steadily losing his initial speed and strength. He was still far stronger than me, but as he learned more strategy he had actually become easier to beat, since he was thinking and planning more during our fights.

"Come on, Eleazar," Emmett snarled. "Help me knock this cheater on his back." Eleazar glanced over to me, mentally asking if I wanted him to rein in my brother. But Emmett's attack had served its purpose, turning my sullen mood into an eager rage.

"Do your worst," I spat, growling at them both in challenge as I leaned forward in a defensive crouch. I had never fought two opponents before, and I was curious to see what would happen. Eleazar was a highly trained fighter, and although he had taught me quite a bit in earlier years, we hadn't actually spent much time sparring for fun.

They glanced at each other conspiratorially, and Eleazar stepped away from Emmett, coming around to flank me. Emmett charged first, keeping his head down like a bull. I leaped up onto his back, springing off of him up and sideways right into Eleazar, who had just decided to attack me from above. I met him in the air, dodging his grasp and rolling off his right leg. As we both began to fall, I grabbed his ankle, trying to swing him as far away as possible so I could deal with Emmett. But he arched his back, reaching overhead and twisting to grab my left knee and climbing up my body until he had me by the hair. We fell to the ground in a tangle. By now Emmett had rejoined the fight, and he smashed into both of us, effectively breaking our grasp on each other. He followed me as I rolled away, and Eleazar jumped again, catching my face with both his feet long enough for Emmett to get my arms. Once Emmett had me, Eleazar grabbed my chin in his hands, jerking my head backwards as he bared his teeth for the victory stroke. _You lose, cousin. __Not bad, for two against-_

Eleazar's teeth snapped against open air, and he grunted as his hands slipped off my face. I looked up in surprise to see Carlisle knocking him aside. When had he gotten here? He snarled playfully at our cousin, who was already reaching back out, thinking he would catch Carlisle's knees with his elbow. My foot shot out, connecting with Eleazar's arm and throwing his aim off. I rolled back over just in time to avoid Emmett's stomping foot, and jumped to my feet, giving Carlisle a quick nod of acknowledgement.

He grinned back at me. _All right, son, let's finish this._ I saw the plan in his mind and nodded again. We swept apart at lightning speed, attacking Emmett and Eleazar simultaneously and sending them crashing into each other, and against Eleazar's car. This turned our fight into two separate matches, but now neither of our opponents had any back room. Carlisle finally got an extra hit on Eleazar which sent him stumbling backwards, which in turn made Emmett turn his face to shove Eleazar away from himself in an attempt to protect the car. I went in for the kill the instant he looked away, and my teeth were on his throat just as Carlisle was thrown down by Eleazar.

Emmett sulked away from the fight, yelling encouragement to our cousin as he took on both father and son. Eleazar danced away from us, but blinked as he discovered that I was already standing behind him. Instead of openly attacking, I dropped to the ground and locked my arms around his knees while Carlisle finished him off from behind.

"Ha!" Emmett roared, coming over and shoving me off of his teammate. _Now doesn't that feel better? Sometimes you just gotta kill something._

I just rolled away, landing on my back with a _thud_ and laughing where I lay. I _did_ feel better. The fight had been thrilling, and it had been particularly exciting to fight in teams. I wondered how Emmett and I would fare against Carlisle and Eleazar. And if we could trust Kate to keep her electrocution turned off, she might be an interesting addition to the mix… I finally opened my eyes to see my father grinning down at me.

_That was incredible! __Did you see the look on Eleazar's face?_ He showed me a few of the best moments of the fight from his point of view, and I started laughing again. I flipped myself onto my feet.

"Their car!" Esme shouted, silencing our laughter immediately. "And my _driveway_!" She jumped off the porch, looking disapprovingly between Eleazar's smashed car and the new craters in the cement. She folded her arms, glaring at Carlisle as she tried to hide the twinkle in her eyes. "I would expect this from the boys, but you! And _you_!" She turned on Eleazar, who rocked back a step, suddenly afraid that she was really angry.

Carlisle wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. "Boys will be boys," he murmured in her ear. She giggled and squirmed away from him, only to be caught again.

"All right, you two!" Emmett huffed, in a perfect impression of my voice. We all laughed again; this was the phrase I had been using constantly over the last couple of weeks every time Emmett and Rosalie's thoughts started getting too amorous for me. "Break it up! A man needs a house."

By now everyone was outside. Each person shouldered a huge stack of lumber and headed off into the forest, toward the site the cottage would be built on. Carlisle hung back, hoping that I would want to talk again. He had joined the fight hoping to make amends to me, and he was relieved at the obvious improvement in my mood now. He stood waiting, hoping that I would accept his silent apology and give him some explanation for the sudden burst of self-loathing he had unintentionally sent me into earlier.

What was I supposed to say to him? When I had returned in '31, I had vowed to be fully honest with my father, about everything, from that day forward. I had made the promise to Carlisle, but also to myself; after all, we were agreed that the whole mess might have prevented if I had just gone to him with my doubts in the first place. And I had kept my vow, for the most part.

But this was different. I couldn't tell him that I understood what a disappointment I was- it would only make him feel worse. I couldn't tell him that his attempt to help me forgive myself had only served to highlight my failure to live up to both our expectations. I couldn't hurt him like that.

_Edward, I-._

"You did nothing wrong," I said quickly. I picked up as many boxes of nails as I could carry, and headed into the woods.

Carlisle stood silently for another moment, and followed with a sigh.

.

.

.

We had the cottage done in time to spare. The style was certainly unique- a sort of log cabin-bungalow-hunting shack hybrid. None of us except Emmett really knew what we were doing, and he had only his human memories of repairing the cabin that his grandfather had built. The Denalis had been repairing and rebuilding their home for centuries, but they knew hardly anything about creating an actual building from the ground up. None of them particularly enjoyed carpentry, and so they had hired humans to do the work, more often than not. To say that the cottage was an architectural disaster wouldn't have been far off the mark.

It didn't matter, really. The happy couple really just needed four walls to call their own. The only major requirement was that the cottage be as airtight as possible, so that they could relax and not have to worry about the scent of any humans that might stray too close. And there was no way that I was going to be able to keep an "eye" on Emmett from the main house; the whole point of this project was to get them far enough away from me so that they could enjoy their wedded bliss without driving me insane. It was a risk, but with the location we had selected, it was quite unlikely that any hikers or hunters would venture too close. And it was close enough that they could call for help, vocally or mentally, should the need arise.

The women had drifted away from the project after the second day, saying they needed to work on the "chapel", as they called it now. We men were more than happy to have something to work on out in the woods while they wrapped up their feminine mysteries. I knew for a fact that they were just planning on going shopping again; Rosalie was excited to help her cousins pick out their dresses. Only Kate stayed behind, insisting that she would rather hammer nails than try on clothes. But when the women returned, we lost her as well; even Kate couldn't resist the Hairstyle Practice Session.

And now, the day had finally come. As soon as the sun rose on Thursday morning, the ladies kicked us back out of the house, giving us our tuxedos and orders to meet them at the chapel at eight o'clock that evening. They had already stocked the cottage with our other accessories, so that we could clean up and dress without intruding on their own preparations. Emmett tried to sneak back into the main house, but Rosalie shrieked so loudly that we pulled him out ourselves.

After stashing our wedding clothes in the cottage, we took Emmett out for one final "bachelor hunt", letting him have first pick of the bear family we found, and again of the herd of elk. Emmett was a nervous wreck the rest of the day, but not for the reason I might have expected.

"This day is all she's been talking about," he said anxiously. "What if I mess it up? What if I say something stupid?"

"You don't need to say anything at all, other than your vows," Carlisle assured him. "And all you have to do is repeat them after me."

"But make sure you compliment her often enough," I added. "Two thousand times ought to do the trick."

"And keep your face on hers while you're dancing," Eleazar put in. "Women like that."

"Now I have to _dance?"_ Emmett moaned. "Nobody said anything about dancing! I don't know how to dance!"

"_I_ wasn't aware there was going to be dancing," Carlisle said with a frown.

"There is now," Eleazar said firmly. "Carmen was chattering about it during the entire drive down here."

"And she got Rosalie excited about it," I added. "They have a whole evening of music planned out. I'm playing the piano for half of the time, and Irina is doing the other half."

Emmett just sat on the ground, his head in his hands. "That's just great."

Carlisle laughed, sitting down beside his newest son and clapping him on the shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Emmett. This is your wedding; just enjoy it."

"It's _Rosalie's_ wedding," I reminded him. "Trust me, nobody is going to be looking at _you_."

"Well, I'll just be glad when it's over," Emmett sulked. "At least I only have to do this once!"

.

.

.

In the end, Eleazar agreed to spend the rest of the day teaching Emmett how to dance. Carlisle excused himself, saying he wanted to go over his sermon. He was quite nervous himself; he had never actually conducted a wedding before, though he had watched his human father do it hundreds of times.

I stayed, interested in seeing which dance styles Eleazar was planning on teaching. But before long I heard him thinking about making _me_ dance with Emmett, and I immediately announced that I had to check the piano, the strings having set out in the cold all night. I made my escape, and headed to the chapel.

The clearing had truly been transformed. Not only had the ladies cleared out a substantial space beside the stream, but they had actually _carpeted_ the ground with a light blue berber. There was no pulpit, but a small stage had been erected at one end of the clearing, and a homemade altar was atop it, complete with candles and the Bible that Carlisle had brought from England. Ten feet back from the stage, two benches were set up for the "guests". There were no flowers yet; I knew that Esme and Tanya would be coming by later with those, so that the cold wouldn't have a chance to wilt anything. My piano had already been brought yesterday, and it sat off to the side. On the opposite end of the clearing was a dance floor. Unbelievable. When had they built that?

I found Carlisle seated, already in his tuxedo, on one of the benches. He hadn't noticed me yet; the wind was against me, pulling my scent away. He was clutching his father's battered Book of Common Prayer and his head was bowed. But he wasn't praying, or even thinking about his sermon; he was thinking about his family.

_I can't believe how blessed I am. __I was alone for so long… and here I am, performing the wedding ceremony for my daughter and my newest son. __And their vows will be witnessed by our extended family; this has to be the largest gathering of vampires I've seen since my time in Italy. __Only this time, everyone present is like me: all golden eyes, all making the right choice. __If only Aro could see me now! __He would never have believed it, either. __He was convinced that my way of life would ruin me, but instead it's proven to be the key to having a real family. __We all bring so much joy to each other._

I stayed back under the trees, watching as he opened the book and reverently traced his fingers over the familiar words, printed so long ago:

_Dearely beloved frendes, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of his congregacion, to joyne together this man and this woman…_

He smiled as he read the words, thinking about how much Rosalie had changed since Emmett had come into our lives. _She's so much happier now. __And I've never seen someone take so quickly to this life as Emmett has. __I know this life isn't easy, and I certainly make a lot of mistakes as a father. __But they have each other, and their love is a marvelous thing to behold. __If only Edward…_

He frowned, mulling again over our conversation that had taken place in the car the other day. Neither of us had spoken of it since, and I hadn't caught him thinking about it until now. He clearly still felt guilty about it, and he was wondering if he should let me be, or if he should pursue the matter. He looked up at the sky, praying for guidance. I turned away, suddenly feeling like an intruder. I did my best to block his mind, waiting a few moments and then clearing my throat to alert him to my presence.

He looked over his shoulder, closing the book. "Edward! I was just thinking about you."

I walked down the aisle, sitting beside him on the bench. "I know. Carlisle… I'm sorry, too."

He frowned. "What could _you_ possibly have to be sorry for?"

_Everything! _I held back the bitter laugh that threatened to give me away. "I'm sorry I let our conversation degrade into that silly debate. You know how… passionate I can get sometimes."

He turned back to me, searching my eyes. "I know," he said slowly. _All vampires- myself included- are a bit volatile. __But sometimes…_

"You get dizzy following my mood swings?" I suggested.

He nodded, relieved I had interrupted before he had the thought himself.

"Yes, I know. But I _am_ happy, Carlisle, truly. And you were right about our family. Even if our… lives… aren't exactly what we would hope for, we have each other. I, too, am gratified to see Rosalie so happy. And Emmett- well, you couldn't have picked a better brother for me. He's exactly what I needed."

Carlisle smiled, remembering how quickly Emmett had managed to bring me out of my slump. "Yes, I've noticed that. And he's exactly what Rosalie needed, as well."

"Yes." Rosalie had needed an eternal worshipper, and Emmett had needed an angel. It was a good thing that Carlisle hadn't listened to me, back when I had insisted that we kill Emmett and find Rosalie someone else. What a disaster that would have been! Not one of my brightest ideas, that.

Carlisle was lost in his own thought, his mind darting between anticipation of dancing with Esme, to the upcoming ceremony, to our four-man fight the other day. He smiled again, remembering Esme's pretended fury with our antics.

"Things have certainly changed since 1918, haven't they?" he mused.

"Yes, they have," I said carefully. I waited for him to complete the thought: that things had been perfect until 1927. But his mind was dwelling on the joys of having such a large family.

I stood up. "I've got to go see if the piano's all right. Please, continue with your sermon, Father Cullen."

He laughed at my joke, thinking of his own father, who had been grooming him for such a role. _I wonder what he would think of me now. __Almost three centuries later, finally officiating my first wedding!_

"He would be proud," I said without hesitation as I sat down at the piano. "He would be proud to see his son not only choosing to make the best of his lot, but leading an entire family to do so."

Carlisle absently flipped through his prayer book, his eyes catching on the spelling oddities of Early Modern English. _Thank you, son. __I doubt he would agree, but it means a lot to hear you say it._

.

.

.

It was a good thing I had come early; the piano was off by an entire half-step. I spent the afternoon tuning the strings and running through some of the selections that I would play in the evening. Around six o'clock, I heard Esme's thoughts growing in my mind.

_Edward, if you're there, I want everyone out! __I have work to do!_

I stopped playing immediately. "The commander-in-chief wants us out of here," I chuckled.

Carlisle lifted his nose in the air, breathing in the growing sweetness of the flowers that Esme and Tanya were bringing. "She must be ready to do the flowers." _This has been fun, but I can't wait until the wedding is over. __I haven't had time alone with Esme since-_

"Yes, let's go," I interrupted anxiously, earning an apologetic laugh from Carlisle as he switched his mind over to medicine.

We ran to the cottage, to find Eleazar and Emmett already dressed. Emmett's tuxedo was just a hair too small, the tailor having been unable to make his alterations in person. But it would work; if anything, Rosalie would appreciate the way that he filled it out. Eleazar, on the other hand, was a sight to behold. He had brought a suit with him, but Esme had declared it to be grossly antique, and he had been dragged into town yesterday to be fitted. His tuxedo was tailored to perfection. He looked every inch the romantic troubadour; Carmen was going to have a fit.

I showered quickly, and slipped into my tuxedo as well, relieved that Esme seemed to have forgotten to bring my pomade to the cottage. My hair would be wild and free tonight, and there was nothing I could do about it. Thank _God_.

I quickly donned the shoes that Esme had laid out for me, and the boutonniere and cufflinks. I stepped into the living room, where Carlisle was straightening Emmett's tie, and looking quite fatherly.

_Kate is going to be upset that she missed that shot_, Eleazar thought to himself. I watched his mind curiously for a moment, and barked out a laugh.

Carlisle glanced between the two of us, confused. "What?"

"Apparently we have a wedding photographer," I said, turning back to face Eleazar, who was scowling at me for revealing the secret. "I'm sorry," I added. "I didn't know it was a surprise."

"Now we have to get our _pictures_ taken?" Emmett moaned.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Carlisle said, frowning as he thought of the inevitable shimmer that the full moon would bring to our skin. It was another reason that Rosalie had refused to change the wedding date; she had said that she wanted to shimmer to live up to Emmett's "angel" vision of her. _I _knew better. She just wanted to shimmer, period.

Eleazar waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry so much, Carlisle. Kate has her own darkroom and everything. These pictures will never be seen by a human eye."

Kate arrived at the cottage an hour later, looking lovelier than ever in her pale green evening gown. Her hair was swept up into an elegant twist and dotted with orange blossoms, dyed to match her dress.

"You look lovely, Kate," I said as she entered the cottage, camera in hand.

"Thanks," she muttered. _Your sister is something else. __Would you believe that we all had to do our hair up, just so that she would be the only one hair with her hair down?_

"Yes," I laughed. "I would believe it."

She dragged a reluctant Emmett outside, wanting to get a few pictures of him against the sunset. Then she came back in and made Carlisle reenact the tie-adjusting moment, finishing with several group shots of the "groom's party" against the wood of the living room wall. Finally, she snapped her lens cover back on and headed out the door, dragging me by my sleeve and shouting back orders for the others to go around the long way, and to only approach the chapel from the east so that nobody would see the bride prematurely.

Since Carlisle was officiating, it had fallen to me to give Rosalie away. This had been a difficult choice for Carlisle; as her father, he had wanted to walk her down the aisle, and place her hand in Emmett's. But he was also proud to be the one at the altar, and in the end he had decided that I had had just as much of a role in Rosalie's new life as he had, and that I would give her away, with Irina playing the piano for the processional. Rosalie was happy with the arrangement, and Emmett hadn't cared at all, so long as I came to stand with him afterwards.

Rosalie and the rest of the "bridal party" were waiting underneath a thick canopy of cedars, half a mile to the west of the chapel. Everyone looked lovely, their evening gowns in beautiful shades of pastel and their hair up in various styles. I could already hear Irina playing, which was rather funny considering she was the only one there. My smile only grew when I saw my sister.

She _was_ an angel- there would be no doubt in Emmett's mind when he saw her. Her gown was a soft white, with rhinestones threaded through the length of the train, and with even more on the bodice. It was quite traditional, with sleeves to the wrist and a gently curved, though high, neckline. Her veil swept down to her fingertips in the front, and to her feet in the back. Her hair itself was mostly down and curled into gentle ringlets around her face, and in looser curls around her shoulders. Esme had given her just a touch of makeup, much less than when we had gone to the hotel earlier in the fall. The rising moonlight was already catching Rosalie's skin and the satin, giving her a soft glow, scattered with the sparkles of the rhinestones and the diamond on her hand.

"Rosalie," I murmured as I took her hands, "you look _incredible." _I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, earning a chorus of sighs from the other ladies. Oddly, I heard a similar sigh coming from behind me: Irina. I turned around, confused as I focused on the chapel, unable to find any thoughts.

"If you're here, then who's playing the piano?"

"It's a record, silly," Esme laughed. _Rosalie wanted Irina to be able to sit down and enjoy the ceremony._

I glanced over at Irina, who was giving me her own version. _I can't believe she wouldn't let me play, just so she could have one more person sitting in her "audience"._

Whatever the reason, I was still at a loss. "Esme, are you trying to tell me that we have _electricity_ at the chapel?"

The ladies just laughed again, each blocking my gift in their own way. Feminine mysteries, indeed.

_-one, two, left right left..._

_Edward, we're ready._

"Emmett's just arriving at the chapel now," I said, cocking my head to listen. "Carlisle and Eleazar are ready, as well."

"All right, Rosalie," Esme said happily, adjusting the edges of the veil. "Give us two minutes, and then follow."

Rosalie and I waited in silence, beginning our walk to the chapel as the stars began to come out. I timed our steps so that we would arrive at just the right moment in Bach's _Prelude in C_. As we drew closer, the heavy sweetness of the flowers grew in the air, and I finally noticed Rosalie's bouquet: an elegant arrangement of orange blossoms and calla lilies. She was fingering the stems nervously.

"Relax," I whispered. "Everything will be perfect."

_Not everything_.

I rolled my eyes as she ran through the fantasies again: a towering cake, hundreds of elegantly dressed guests, hundreds of wine glasses raised in the air-

"-and no Emmett," I said firmly.

_I know. __You're right. __I just…_

"Rosalie," I said gently, "this is his wedding, too. And you're his angel. Don't let him see how many things you're not getting, please. You're getting the very best, and you know it."

She stood up straighter, tightening her grip on the bouquet. "You're right. Let's go."

I offered her my arm again, pulling her forward and turning out of the trees and into the chapel. The music swelled perfectly, and everyone stood as we began our walk down the aisle. I smiled down at Rosalie, knowing that Kate was about to take our picture. The flash burst, and Rosalie's smile grew wider as she saw Emmett for the first time. I peeked over at my brother, grinning at his open-mouthed awe as he took in the sight of his bride. Carlisle nudged him gently, and he closed his mouth just in time for his own picture to be taken.

I stepped slightly away from Rosalie, taking her delicate hand off my arm and placing it in Emmett's, and then I moved silently to stand behind my brother for the rest of the ceremony. As Carlisle began to speak, I finally glanced around the chapel, impressed at how the flowers had added just the right touch and brought the clearing to life. I noticed for the first time that there were electric lanterns hung high above the dance floor, and there was a whole stack of records waiting by the phonograph. My gaze drew closer to our extended family, who were seated and enjoying Carlisle's sermon. Esme was Rosalie's attendant, and she was standing beside her, taking the bouquet as Carlisle had Rosalie and Emmett join hands for the blessing. I watched proudly as they stepped up to the altar, taking the tapers and lighting the larger candle in the center: their separate hearts, united for eternity. They returned to the front of the stage, and Carlisle began speaking about the rings. When the moment came, I reached into my vest pocket and handed Rosalie's ring to Emmett.

_Thanks, bro. __You're the best._

I smiled encouragingly to him, and he turned back to his bride, sliding the ring halfway onto her finger as he said his vows. Emmett's mind was buzzing with happiness as he plighted his troth; he had never, in his human life, thought that he could possibly be this happy. Rosalie viewed Carlisle's gift of immortality as a curse, but Emmett felt the opposite way. His human life had been a race to see how much fun and debauchery he could fit into the years he was allotted, and now the tables had been turned. He had suddenly been given unlimited years, and a wholesome happiness that he had never thought to look for. He was aware of the challenge that Rosalie presented, though. He knew that she would never be truly happy, even with him. He knew that she would be human again, in an instant, if it were possible. And even if that wasn't what _he_ wanted, he would do it himself, in an instant, with her. Anything for her.

I blinked as a cloud of white flipped up in front of me, and suddenly I was clapping along with everyone else as Emmett kissed his bride. Irina jumped over to the phonograph and turned it off, darting over to the piano and beginning to play the recessional as Rosalie and Emmett turned to face the "crowd". I was proud of Rosalie; she was definitely thinking about how small our gathering was, but she showed no outward sign. The camera flashed again and again as Kate forced us into various groupings, and then we headed to the dance floor. Irina began playing a lively waltz, and Kate was still taking pictures: it was inevitable. I had to dance with Tanya.

I walked briskly up to her, determined to catch her before she could catch me. I appeared in her face, bowing and murmuring something about her incandescent beauty. She smiled coyly as she took my hand, and I led her up onto the dance floor. But my eyes were really on my sister as she began to sway with Emmett, her eyes closing. Both our minds were going back- it hadn't even been three months since we had danced at Carlisle's banquet in Chattanooga. We were both thinking about that last dance- the one we hadn't really wanted to share, and how lonely she had felt that night.

I suddenly released Tanya from my grasp, clearing my throat loudly. "I'd like everyone except the bride and groom to clear the dance floor, please," I announced.

Everyone filed off of onto the carpet, and I moved over to the piano, gesturing for Irina to get up. Emmett and Rosalie watched me curiously, frozen in their interrupted dance as they waited to see what I would do.

"This is your wedding gift," I told them as I met Rosalie's eyes with my own. "But first, I want to play something special for the best sister in the world."

I turned to the keys, and I heard Rosalie's happy sigh when I began to play _Dancing Cheek to Cheek._ I played it slowly, just like it had been played that night at the banquet. I peeked up to see the happy couple draw even closer together, Emmett bending down to place his cheek against hers as they danced. Rosalie was quite tall for a woman, and they were a handsome couple; possibly the most handsome in the world..

After I had finished that song, I transitioned into the "Rosalie and Emmett" theme that I had been working on. Emmett chuckled as he recognized it, whispering into Rosalie's ear about the day he had first heard me tinkering with it: the day we had brought him home. As the tempo picked up, the others floated back onto the dance floor.

I would join them soon. I would dance with Tanya again, and even Irina, if she would have me; in times like this, family was family. But for now, I showered my love upon them all the best way I knew how, through my music. I watched, smiling, as everyone I held dear danced to my song, and my mind drifted across the miles, across time, if need be: would I ever dance like that, holding my bride in my arms? Would there come a day when Carlisle would straighten my tie, and wait with me at the altar, and watch proudly as I slid a ring onto my beloved's finger, murmuring my vows as I stared into her golden eyes? Would I ever look down as I played the piano, to see my own wedding ring shining on my hand? Would my wife ever sit beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder as I played all the songs I had written for her?

I hoped that day would come, and come soon. But for now, I drank in the sight of my family, their minds joined in celebration as my fingers danced, ringless, over the keys.

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**The End**

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**I hope you all enjoyed the wedding! I'd love to hear your final thoughts about this chapter and 1935 as a whole. And now it's time for 1936!**


	17. Announcement: 1936

**Just a note to say the first chapter of 1936 has been posted... Enjoy!**


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